


don't lie, you've got it all figured out

by warmcuppatea



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (unintentional) cheating, Come play, D/s notes, Humiliation kink, M/M, Orgasm Control, Sexual Content, Spanking, boys shoving each other, ft. doting daddy liam, ft. high as a kite zayn, ft. wise and settling down niall, harry is oblivious and clumbsy, harry's a wedding planner bc of COURSE, louis is a world famous popstar bc of COURSE, louis wears a shit eating grin almost the entire story, noncon in ch 4 only, obvi the zerrie wedding was never gonna happen, under negotiated kink, use of safeword
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-02-27 05:46:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13241703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmcuppatea/pseuds/warmcuppatea
Summary: Harry wasn’t exactly a stranger to this kind of situation, sadly - waking up in bed with someone you barely knew. For someone who had all of the ends of his life tied up quite well, his sex life just didn’t seem to stay put. While he was always very careful to keep work and pleasure separate, last night was just an exception. Harry was drunk off his arse, first off. His career was in the middle of a literal nose-dive, and Louis seemed to be completely care free, and full of the least innocent touches. Of course, he’d known that’s where things with Louis were heading last night. The playful teasing, dancing, and lots of alcohol. It wasn’t the first time - or the last - that he’d wake up with a pounding headache. However, something was different about this. He shook his head and took a minute to think about it. His eyes widened in rememberance. Jesus, had that been at the venue? He cringed. His career had to be over. But, there had to have been more. Round two. Apparently, in his bed.“Oh my god.” Harry lamented.Louis had a shit eating grin. “Yep, that’s what you were screaming last night.”---or, where even in an alternate universe, nothing can keep harry and louis apart.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone, and welcome to my newest story, "don't lie, you've got it all figured out"!
> 
> i am super excited about this story, and I hope you are too. i haven't been as prolific as i used to be (i orphaned over 15 works in a fit of rage one night, i know, i'm the worst!!), but this fic makes me feel back at home in my writing. while i have a few unlinked pseuds that i use from time to time, this work felt right at home here. 
> 
> i am planning on releasing this in about 5 parts, chaptered, but we will see how it goes!
> 
> as always, i do not own one direction, little mix, any song lyrics used (like the title song 'don't ya' by brett elderidge which is SUPER cute!!!), or any people in this story. there will be a parallel story that is niall-centric but in the same verse called "that smile, has got me spinning around"! it's unlike anything else i have written, so keep your eyes peeled for that. finally, the next installment of 'leave her bed for mine' will be out shortly. i had lost inspiration for that work but have found it again. if you haven't read that one, please do! it's a bit of a mystery, i'd love o hear your thoughts!
> 
> without further ado, here it is:
> 
> don't lie, you've got it all figured out
> 
> -m

“Some party this has turned out to be, huh?”

There were so many thoughts currently flying through Harry’s head, and the current state of this party - reception, to be specific - was where all of those thoughts stemmed from. He shook his head a bit, gripping the champagne glass in his hand a little tighter. It was abandoned by his side, almost as if it was an afterthought that he had just remembered. He nodded his head slowly, lips pursed. Quite the party, it was. When the bride and groom are two of the biggest stars on the planet, and they decide  _ at the ceremony, on the freaking altar _ , that neither wants to get married, usually the whole thing goes to hell. As in, wasted food, wilting flower arrangements, untouched centerpieces...Harry was prepared for that, he knew he could control that damage. However, when they decide to keep the ceremony - rather, a party, because ceremonies are for weddings that actually  _ happen  _ \- going, and have the reception because “ _ why the fuck not? We’re all already here!” _ , Harry was more than lost. Here it was - this beautiful event he had spent the last nine and a half months of his life planning - gone to shit. People drunk and literally dancing on his floral arrangements, on top of tablecloths that had a higher thread count than he did dollars in the bank. This wedding reception was supposed to be that one event, the moment he was set to be a player in the celebrity wedding game. And maybe it still would be. Maybe he could change his career, forget all the etiquette classes he had taken throughout his entire life, push the perfectly tailored suits to the back of his closet, and start throwing ragers like he was some sort of new Scott Disick. Just the idea of that - wrinkled shirts and booze-filled pool parties - made Harry clutch the champagne flute a little tighter in his palm. He snapped back to reality and sighed a bit, licking his lips before downing the contents of his glass. He turned, looking at the figure beside him, finally registering his words. 

Harry let out a mindless chuckle. “Right? And People Magazine has the exclusive rights… to  _ this _ . This wedding, Zayn, Perrie…. God, this was supposed to be their amazing, exclusive scoop. I wonder what story they’re going to try and spin this into..” He said and hummed, watching someone effectively fall off one of the tables. Serves them right. “This will be an even bigger shit show by the time the sun comes up.” He said with a laugh, head shaking. “How’d you end up at this wedding?” He asked, finally taking a second to study the figure beside him. 

Tan skin, oceanesque eyes, and a flirty smirk. “Best Man, Well, I don't know. Do I still get the title if there wasn’t technically a wedding for me to be the Best Man at?” He asked with a hum, sipping some of his own drink. Harry had done a short spell as a bartender -  _ cringe _ \- and if he had to guess, it looked to be a rum and coke. Or was that a lime wedge? Definitely a Cuba Libre, then. “Really though. This wedding looks like it was made for some cotton ball anyways. Doesn’t match the Pezza I know at all.” he laughed. “Wonder who's going down for this catastrophe.” He said offhandedly, with a sarcastic laugh, as he set his now empty glass (save a few ice cubes) on a waiter’s tray as they walked by. 

Harry’s grin grew. “That would be me. Harry Styles. Celebrity wedding planner to the cotton balls who don’t actually want to get married.” He said and gave a pretend toast with his champagne glass, before placing his hand out for Louis to shake. “Surprised our paths haven’t crossed in this whole process before, Best Man. What’s your name?” His smile only grew as he watched Louis’ face light up. Louis practically slapped his hand right down into Harry’s - definitely not following any rules of etiquette there - and shook it, his smile breathtaking.

“Louis Tomlinson.” He said with a laugh. “Do you live under a rock, mate? I’m kinda a world-famous pop star.” He said with the kind of perfected arrogance that anyone would find endearing.   
  


And that’s how it all started.

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

See, the thing was - Harry hadn’t been planning on Louis Tomlinson, and Harry plans for  _ everything _ .

He’s that guy that starts Christmas shopping in August, excel spreadsheet in hand because he has it all figured out. His pantry is organized by food type, color, and expiration date. He meal plans, has his laundry done in a timely manner, and barely uses his personal assistant at work because he has everything done on his own. However,  _ Louis Tomlinson  _ is starting to throw a wrench into that. 

He woke up to a phone call from his assistant - Rose was her name, and Harry offhandedly remembered to bring in her birthday present (already wrapped and ready, of course) to celebrate her next week - who was very concerned, because Harry was late to work. For the first time. Ever. 

Harry shot straight up, body still wrapped in sheets. “I’m  _ what _ ?” he asked, because he had to have heard her wrong. 

“Late?” Rose offered shyly. “It’s okay. Your first meeting of the morning rescheduled anyways, but I just wanted to call and make sure -” She paused. “We were just making sure you weren’t, like, dead or something. You’re never late.” She said.

Harry rubbed his face. He felt so disappointed in himself. “What time is it?” He asked sadly.

“8:12.” The voice next to him replied at the same time as Rose. He could hear her talking as he quickly turned to see where the voice was coming from. “ _ Harry, who is that? Did you-” _

Harry jumped a bit. “What the actual f-” He hung up on Rose quickly, looking over to find no one besides Louis Tomlinson. In his bed, in the flesh, and he was surely naked. And what a sight he was. 

Harry wasn’t exactly a stranger to this kind of situation, sadly - waking up in bed with someone you barely knew. For someone who had all of the ends of his life tied up quite well, his sex life just didn’t seem to stay put. It was full of last-minute hookups and secret rendezvous, dating apps, and the sort. He just couldn’t help himself, he’d lamented to his best friend Liam (who himself was curious, but got way too attached for hookups). If it wasn’t the other person making the first move, it was his dimples or his laugh, or his sultry glance. He was a born flirt, even though most people would never guess. While he was always very careful to keep work and pleasure separate, that night was just an exception. Harry was drunk off his arse, first off. His career was in the middle of a literal nose-dive, and Louis seemed to be completely carefree, and full of the least innocent touches. Of course, he’d known that’s where things with Louis were heading last night. The playful teasing, dancing, and lots of alcohol. It wasn’t the first time - or the last - that he’d wake up with a pounding headache and a smarting bum. However, something was different about this. He shook his head and took a minute to think about it. Wincing more, he vaguely remembered his hands being tied… With the handmade cloth napkins he’d spent over a month designing. Jesus, had that been at the venue? He cringed. His career had to be over. But, there had to have been more. Round two. Apparently, in his bed. 

“Oh my god.” Harry lamented. 

Louis had a shit-eating grin. “Yep, that’s what you were screaming last night.” 

✦ ✧

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Harry offered, hastily buttoning his floral shirt. He looked for his trousers from the night before and cursed as he tripped on Louis’ shoe. “I,  _ shit _ , I just don’t want you to feel like I’m kicking you -  _ ah, here they are _ ! - kicking you out on your arse, you know?”

Louis was laid up in Harry’s bed still, naked as ever, the duvet barely doing anything to protect his modesty. He smiled a bit, watching Harry fuss around. “Nah, it’s okay.” He said, pinching his bum when Harry was close enough for him to do so. “I have some things to do anyway.”

“ _ Louis _ ,” Harry whined, jumping a bit when he felt the pinch, rubbing at his bum. “Stop it. You’re just making me want to climb back in bed again for another round, and I’m already  _ so _ beyond late-”

Louis laughed and sat up, on the edge of the bed. He pulled Harry between his legs and looked at him. “Stop stressing out so much, love. Like you said, your first appointment canceled anyways.”

Harry pouted but let himself be pulled, his clumsy legs knocking into each other a bit. “That’s not the point, and you know it.” 

Louis shook his head and pulled Harry so he was straddling his lap. Harry let out a small protest but gave up as soon as he felt Louis’ lips attach to his neck. “See, young Harold, ” He began,  leaving a nice hickey on his neck. “Being late is a lot more fun when  _ having fun _ is part of the reason you’re late.”

Harry let his eyes close, a hand curling in Louis’ hair. “Mmm... I see.” He breathed out. 

“Exactly,” Louis said proudly, letting a hand slip in Harry’s trousers. He palmed at Harry’s arse for a minute, watching Harry begin to fall apart in his lap. “See? Can’t help but be late now.” He said, humor evident in his voice as he felt Harry grind his cock against Louis’.

“Course not. Wouldn’t want to go into work indecently.” Harry said, looking up at him, with an innocent smile, dimples shining as he ground down against Louis again, more purposefully.

“ _ Damn _ , those dimples.” Louis moaned before pushing Harry onto the bed, kissing him thoroughly.

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

 

Harry let out a frustrated huff of air. “I don’t think you heard me correctly. I’m here to see Louis Tomlinson. He lives in 36 A, has two cats, and subscribes to New York Times, only to have you throw them away instead of delivering them. For “aesthetic”. I have done my research, I  _ know _ he lives here!”

Harry saw a mum give him a strange look, pulling her daughter closer as they walked inside, receiving a friendly greeting from the doorman he was currently trying to persuade to let him inside. “How come you’re letting them in, and not me?” He asked with a frown.

The doorman rolled his eyes. “They have friends who live here; you’re just stalking a pop star. Run along, kid. Maybe you’ll catch him next time.” He said and tried to wave Harry away, which.

“I am  _ not _ a kid, I run a million dollar business and plan weddings you could only  _ dream  _ of,  _ Walter _ ,” he spat, reading his nametag. “I think you better-”

“Mister Tomlinson,” Walter greeted warmly. “This is the, em,  _ guest _ , that you have been informed of. He seems to know quite a bit about you.”

Louis smiled like the literal sun. Harry was sure he was getting a sunburn in the middle of the winter. “Oi! Harry! Come on up, then! Should’ve let him in the first time, Mate.” He said and clapped Walter on the back before heading inside, rubbing his arms from just a few seconds of the London cold. 

Harry gave Walter a smug smile, which Walter didn’t seem to respond to. “You’re very hard to get in touch with”, Harry said, once they were in the elevator. See, the thing was, he felt like he had to see Louis. To tell him off, or kiss him, or explain why exactly he’d been such a hussy that night. But Louis seemed to be his bubbly self.

(According to Harry’s extensive googling, Louis  _ was _ a world-famous pop star as he stated, famous for his electric pop that was a combination of fun and relatable. He was best friends with Harry’s largest client to date, model Zayn Malik, who both met on a shoot for Burberry. They both liked to party and were known to throw some of the craziest ragers in London. That is, when Louis was actually in the country, considering the fact that he was usually off touring somewhere around the globe. His last tour had grossed over 7 million pounds, and that had been a shorter tour with more intimate venues to appease fans. Suffice it to say, Louis was well off and his career was booming. Of course, Harry had conducted his research and double checked his facts. Louis’ story seemed to line up. 

He always needed to know more, when the fun might be more than a one-time thing.)

Louis laughed, crinkling the skin by his eyes. “They tell me that’s a good thing. You know, the almost called the police to contain you. You’re quite the unstoppable force, Harry Styles.” He said with a knowing smirk. 

What Louis seemed to know, Harry was unsure of. “I do know how to get my way. You need to, in my line of business.”

“So I’ve seen.” Louis hummed, stepping out of the elevator into his penthouse apartment. “Welcome inside, mi casa es tu casa, I think is how they say it.” He smiled. “Beer?”

Harry couldn’t help but cringe. It was barely half-past two. “Water will be fine, thanks.” He said, taking a seat on Louis’ couch. He was in a more casual state than normal, his hair pulled back into two braids, wearing black skinny jeans, a white tee that was tucked at the button, a Burberry coat, and some Yves Saint Laurent boots. He laid his coat across his lap, letting himself warm up. 

“Suit yourself.” Louis smiled, and was back over in a second with a glass of water for Harry, and a bottle of Stella Artois for himself. “I’ve got to say, Styles. I was expecting to see you soon, but not this soon.” He beamed. “What brings you to here?”

Well. Harry hadn’t exactly expected to get this far. He didn’t prefer to do these kinds of conversations off the cuff, but he’d make do. “I wanted to make everything clear, about the other night - when we met.” He said before Louis cut in. 

“Sick party! Would’ve been amazing as a wedding, but the whole  _ not _ wedding aspect certainly brought a bout of fun to it. I actually did some research and your legit weddings look sick, mate.”

Harry furrowed his brows. “It  _ was _ a real wedding, but that’s not the point. I meant, about how we, you know,  _ met _ …”

Louis shook his head. “I know. I run my mouth too much. Did I come off as a pretentious arse? My mum says I do sometimes with the whole pop star bit.” He said with a laugh. “Harry, don’t worry. We’re mates now, right?”

Harry gave a weak smile. “Of course. Mates.”

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

  
  


Harry wasn’t a complicated fellow. He liked to think that he was easy enough to get along with, someone who was approachable, and open-minded. He was polite, minded his manners, and always had snacks ready when someone was coming over to his apartment. He tried to be the perfect host for any guest, because that’s just how he was raised. However, Louis Tomlinson was going to be the literal death of him, because Harry wasn’t able to even  _ breathe _ when Louis was around, let alone prepare.

He sighed softly as he looked - maybe just a little bit frantically - through his pantry for something to offer Louis. Something quick to whip up. It had been a busy week, he’d had a lot of clients over to discuss their upcoming nuptials, and his cabinets were bare. And Monday mornings were for grocery shopping, so there was hardly anything, save the few potentially expired and  _ processed _ granola bars, some canned vegetables, and different seasoning mixes for roasts. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he moved to the freezer, hoping to find some solace there.

He spared a glance at Louis, sighing softly. “So, what happened?” He asked softly. He didn’t mean to pry, but if he knew Louis at all, he could guarantee that Louis was just waiting to vent his frustrations.

Louis toed off his shoes, kicking them aimlessly on the floor. He was laying dramatically across Harry’s sofa, already wrapped up in his most favorite blanket that Harry owned. He burrowed into the covers a little further, shaking his head. “Well, it all started with that rager we threw a couple weekends ago.”

(Harry remembered the one. He may be prim and proper, but he could still chug beer and skinny dip with the best of them, and any rager Louis was throwing was certainly a  _ rager _ … He tried not to think about that night too hard. He just remembered the supple tan skin, littered with tattoos that Harry was very fond of. He remembered tipsy blue eyes pulling him forward and unbuttoning his shirt, and Harry thought that maybe if he squeezed his eyes shut a little tighter, that he could still feel Louis’ hands on his torso, like the literal sun had been touching him. Harry had let out an equally tipsy laugh, almost forgetting all the half nude bodies that surrounded them, that it wasn’t just himself and Louis there… In other words, there was no way Harry could  _ ever _ forget the previously mentioned rager, even if he tried.) He pushed his thoughts away as he dug through his freezer, just moving around some bags of frozen veggies, finding a few sheets of frozen puff pastry. This was a start. He gave Louis a nod to continue.

“And like, it was a great time, obviously. But maybe it was too good because now I have paps in my backyard every damn night. Like, God, I don’t skinny dip  _ every _ day, you know?” He didn’t need to wait for Harry’s response. “And all I wanted was a nap, that was all! And you know, it was around 8 pm, sun was setting, getting dark… and BAM! Next thing I know, there’s a fucking pap in my bedroom window. Lights are flashing and shit’s going off.” He said, anger evident in his voice. “And I’m so fucking exhausted, okay? Like, I just got off of a 13-hour flight and spent another hour stuck in London traffic. All I wanted was to take a nap. And I can’t even do that in my own home.” He said and finally simmered off. He stayed quiet for a second before looking at Harry, sitting up. “You said I was welcome here?” He asked, sounding much softer. “Said to make myself at home, God…” He sighed, rubbing his face. “I should have called before barging in on you, damn, it’s almost 10 pm…”

By that time, Harry had found some fruit and was making a filling for his puff pastry creation. When he heard Louis hesitate, however, he frowned deeply. “Hey, no.” He said, frowning. He wiped his hands off on a towel, before walking over to Louis. “Of course you’re welcome here. This is a perfect place to nap.” He said and smiled at him, brushing Louis’ hair from his eyes. He couldn’t help it. He was a little handsy in general, especially when people were upset. “Of course you’re welcome here, especially if you can’t find solace in your own home.” He said finally, pulling away.

Louis nodded, seemingly relaxing a bit. “But I feel bad. I just need the couch, that’s all, and I’ve managed to throw you into some cooking frenzy.” He frowned. 

Harry laughed and tried to deny it. “I am  _ not _ in a frenzy. I am cooking because you’re my guest and my friend, and you deserve to be fed while you’re under my roof, and that’s final.” He said and clapped. “These should be ready in a half hour. Take your nap.” He smiled at him. “I’ll wake you when they’re done.” 

Louis gave Harry a smile, cuddling into the blankets. Words weren’t needed, Harry understood what Louis was trying to say. You don’t always get a say in who you get in this world. But you get a say in who you trust. And Harry’d like to think that maybe, even though they hadn’t known each other but a few weeks, that he’d made it onto that list. He certainly trusted Louis, because Louis had given him no reason to  _ not _ trust him. But Louis’ world was different than Harry’s - clearly. Filled with 14-hour flights, screaming fans, and cameras following everywhere he went. 

He either had people who betrayed him or who lied to him, Harry surmised. Yes men and liars. Harry wasn’t either of those. He wondered if that meant that he wasn’t supposed to be in Louis’ world at all. 

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

 

“You’re making  _ creme brulee?” _ Liam asked, eyes widening.

Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Yes, Liam. I am so glad that you have eyes.” He said as he beat the eggs into his saucepan of milk. 

Liam shook his head. “I know you take these monthly dinner parties seriously, but  _ creme brulee? _ ” He repeated, pausing before his eyes lit up. “Who are you trying to shag?” 

Harry set his whisk down, crossing his arms and pouting at Liam. “That’s a bit rude, don’t you think?” He asked him. “Who says I’m trying to shag  _ anyone _ , Liam? Creme brulee just happens to be one of my favorite desserts. So I am blessing you and everyone else  - my wonderful, annoying, best mates - with my favorite dish.”

Liam seemed to buy that, for the time being. A second later, though, he gasped. “I know it! You’re inviting Mystery Man, aren’t you?” He asked. “You’re really pulling out the big guns if you’re making creme brulee. Hoping he’ll fuck you into another pile of tablecloths?” He asked Harry with a shit-eating grin.

“ _ Liam, _ ” Harry started but gave up. “Trust, if I was trying to get fucked, I wouldn’t need my creme brulee. My dimples work just fine.” He said, before topping off both of their glasses of wine. 

Liam laughed and took a sip of his wine. “Well, you didn’t say that I was wrong.” He said and wiggled his eyebrows.

“I should have never told you that!” He laughed and shook his head. “Now, my lovely mate, why don’t you get off your arse and set the table?” He asked, giving his bum a playful smack as Liam walked by.

Liam looked scandalized. Harry shrugged, he’d take that as a compliment.

✦ ✧

An hour and a half later, the dinner party seemed to be in full swing. 

As per usual, there is tons of amazing food (cooked by Harry, of course), lots of alcohol courtesy of Niall and Amelia, and there was a bong going around somewhere, brought by Zayn and Louis.

(Harry had been very hesitant to invite Zayn - he was still very bothered by the wedding  _ not wedding _ , however, he knew that it would increase his chances of Louis showing up. Louis loved a good party, and Harry was more than capable of throwing one.)

Liam went crazy when he realized _Louis Tomlinson_ was the mystery man. He’d pulled Harry aside and asked how he could keep such a secret - telling Harry he _loved_ Louis. Harry just laughed and shrugged, telling Liam that there wasn’t much of a secret to keep.

Liam bought that for a while, until Louis went to get fresh drinks. He handed Harry kiss with a kiss on the cheek and a soft, “Here, babe.” 

“I  _ knew _ there was a reason for the creme brulee!” Liam exclaimed, a bit more than tipsy, pointing an accusatory finger at Harry.

Harry laughed and shrugged, his own cheeks pink from the alcohol coursing through his system. 

“Creme brulee?” Louis asked, confused but smiling. “You made that?” He asked Harry endearingly, making Harry  _ swoon _ . “Creme brulee is my favorite.”

✦ ✧

After another few rounds of drinks, Zayn decided it was time for everyone to start smoking. They sat on Harry’s balcony, cross-legged in a circle, passing the blunt around. Niall was going to get another drink and Louis was somewhere inside, his manager having called, so they started without them. Everyone took a minute to take a drag, before passing it around. 

“Niall told me I’m his forever,” Amelia deadpanned with a smirk. “What a romantic, huh?”

Zayn laughed a bit. “Ball and chaiiin.” He said, blowing the smoke in circles before passing the blunt to Hailee. 

She rolled her eyes at Zayn. “Don’t be mean to poor Ni. Just because  _ you _ don’t like the idea of forever doesn’t mean  _ he _ can’t find it endearing.” She took a draw herself, letting it out her nose slowly before passing it to Harry. “Right, Hazza love? Tell Zayn.”

Harry didn’t smoke often - he had when he was at University, but had given it up after. He wasn’t one to turn down at a good party though. He took the blunt and shrugged. “I think,” He said with a smirk. “That Zayn is too afraid to fall in love. Wholeheartedly, that is. Love is real and true and great, and exciting, and  _ Zayn _ is just a pussy.” He said simply, happy with his answer.

“Cheers to that!” Louis laughed, walking out onto the balcony as he slid his phone into his pocket. Louis sat in Harry’s lap, holding his hand out for the blunt. 

(Harry tried to not make a big deal of this. It wasn’t a big deal, right? Because his balcony was small and although Louis could have just asked someone to move, it wasn’t a Big Deal. Right?)

Harry took another drag before passing it to him, resting his hand on Louis’ kneecap. 

“What were we talking about?” Louis asked, taking a few drags to catch up with everyone else. 

“Love,” Amelia said, reaching for the blunt as the circle started again. “And how Zayn’s a pussy and Niall is a sweet, gooey, syrupy, softie.” She said, unable to hide the fondness in her voice if she tried.

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Love is a ball and chain - like I said. It’s unmet expectations and broken promises. I’m staying a free man as long as possible.” He said, but he didn’t sound bothered.

“S’right. People have these sky-high expectations. I am one man!!!” Louis laughed, a hand on his stomach. “I can only do so much, ya know? Harry knows what I mean.”

Liam took the blunt from Amelia, who had skipped him - _rude_ \- and shrugged. “I guess,” He mused. “But like, wouldn’t it be nice if we were all like Niall?” He asked, taking a drag before passing it. “Full of blind faith and adoration.”

Louis leaned back against Harry’s chest, and Harry couldn’t help but shiver at the intimacy of it. “What do you think of it, love?” he whispered in Harry’s ear as everyone else continued to talk. 

Harry’s cheeks were pink. “I dunno.” He admitted. “I mean, I’ve never been in it. But I have to believe in it. If it’s not real then what the fuck are we here for, right?” He asked. “And plus, I  _ have _ to believe in love. Because of my business.” He defended.

Louis gave him a knowing smile. “I feel like you’re not telling me the whole truth, babe,” and,  _ babe _ .

Harry shrugged, hiding his red cheeks in Louis and laughed, hiding his face in Louis’ shoulder. “Ask me some other time. About love.” 

Louis nodded and smiled, kissing his cheek. Harry convinced himself all this meant nothing because Louis was drunk and even though Harry could have fun like anyone else, habitual fun led him to get a wee bit attached. 

✦ ✧

Harry was, once again, woken up to the sight of a man in his bed.

(However, he wasn’t a stranger now. It was  _ Louis _ , who loved dogs more than cats, and creme brulee, and cuppas with milk, no sugar. Harry felt like he’d known Louis forever and yet he still felt like they’d just met because Louis was full of surprises. Harry tried not to google Louis too much, he didn’t want to pry and stick his nose somewhere it shouldn’t be - but he realized that Louis was so different than the rags and paparazzi made him out to be. Louis was a white sand beach, soft but sure beneath your feet, but he was also the harsh waves crashing into the coast, only to retreat and crash back again until the tides changed. He was the crisp air you got once the sea breeze burned off, the taste of salt on your tongue, and the feeling of sand in your hair long after you’d gone home. It might be nice to get lost there, Harry thought. Surrounded by sunshine, wind and waves, and Louis. If he had to choose, really, he thinks he might just stay there in his own Louis-shaped bubble a while.)

Harry laughed and smiled, reaching out to brush Louis’ hair out of his eyes once he opened them. “Keep ending up in my bed and I’ll start expecting you to be here.” He said simply, softly. 

Louis smiled and gave his forehead a kiss. He looked a little pale, and Harry figured it was because he’d drank double his weight in beer the night before. “At least we still have clothes on, this time,” Louis said with a laugh, his voice hoarse. 

Harry couldn’t help but frown. “Are you poorly? Your throat sounds wrecked, and that doesn’t come from drinking, love.” He said and immediately put his hand on Harry’s forehead. “You’re warm. Oh,  _ Louis _ .” He said with a frown, before pushing himself off the bed. “Let me make you some tea and a scramble for your stomach.”

“Harry,” He protested. “I’m fine. I stayed to help you clean, remember? I’ll survive until we’re done.” He offered, speaking softly, his voice scratchy.

Harry wrinkled his nose like it was offensive. “Cleaning can wait until later, I’ll be right back.”

He made his way out into the living room, stepping over the tangled mess on the floor that was Amelia and Niall. He could hear Zayn outside, talking on the phone as he smoked, and he assumed Hailee and Liam would both be somewhere as well. He grabbed a large pan and a whole dozen eggs. He cracked them into a bowl as the pan preheated, seasoning and scrambling them, before pouring them into the pan. 

He felt arms wrap around his waist and a bit of stubble press against his back. “Louis, why are you up?” He asked with a fold eye roll.

“You left the door open, and all the cold air drafted in.” He said with a pout, hugging Harry’s warm body like it was the only thing keeping him alive. “Besides, I wanted to say thank you.” He explained, looking at Harry.

“Stop talking,” Harry insisted, smiling even more. “You don’t need to thank me for shit. Save your voice for singing or sommat.” He said. 

Harry felt Louis pull away and assumed that Louis had,  _ for once _ , actually listened to him. He gasped when he felt Louis pawing at his trousers, pulling them down  _ just so _ , to reach his cock.

“ _ Louis _ ,” Harry choked out, trying not to moan. 

“You were hard when you got outta bed.” He said, looking up at him from where he had moved to - in front of Harry, on his knees. “Can’t leave you like a loaded gun, now can I?” He started to stroke Harry’s cock slowly, kissing at the tip before trailing the kisses down his shaft.

Harry gripped the spatula a little tighter.

“Don’t let the eggs burn.” Louis reminded, before finally taking him into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head playfully. 

Harry groaned and covered his mouth -  _ fuck _ , this was the last thing he needed his mates to wake up to - but he had absolutely  _ no _ desire to stop Louis, not when his mouth felt that good.He attempted to stir the eggs, his whole arm shaking a bit. His free hand knotted in Louis’ hair.

Without warning, Louis took him down deep, his hand playing with Harry’s balls as he fucked his own mouth on Harry’s cock. 

“Shit, Louis,” Harry moaned out, covering his mouth when he heard Amelia stir in the living room. “Fuck,  _ please _ , so good, just a bit-” He groaned, thrusting into his mouth shallowly, as to not hurt him.

Louis moaned around him, eyes closing as he just  _ took _ it. He rubbed at Harry’s taint and stroked what wasn’t in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he felt Harry tensing above him.

Harry came with a suppressed grunt, eyes squeezing closed as he pulled Louis’ hair violently. He watched Louis swallow it all and clean off Harry’s cock, before throwing him a wink.

His voice was completely shot, now. “At least now I have a  _ reason _ my voice is gone.” He said with a laugh. 

Harry finished him off with his hand, which didn’t take long. Apparently, Louis  _ loved _ giving a good blowie, which Harry didn’t mind at all. He washed his hands twice afterward, both him and Louis breaking out into a laugh when Liam asked what Harry’s secret ingredient in the eggs was. 

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

  
  


_ louthetommo has invited  _ Harry Styles  _ to the group via text message. _

Harry Styles  _ has joined the group. _

Harry Styles  _ has changed their name to curlyhs. _

_ louthetommo has made the group private. _

_ louthetommo:  _ finally curly ! thought youd never join haaaa x cant have a props group chat without groupmeee :) :)

_ curlyhs:  _ That’s quite dramatic, hm? You only asked me twice. And don’t we have a group chat on iMessage?

_ louthetommo _ : (eye roll emoji) oi dont ya know this app is way more secure than ya imessage???

_ louthetommo _ : ya kno i dont want me nudes gettin leaked 

_ curlyhs _ : I don’t think I’d have anything to do with that either way, mate! (laughing emoji)

_ louthetommo has added a picture to the group. _

_ louthetommo has added a picture to the group. _

_ louthetommo has added a picture to the group. _

_ louthetommo _ : cant say that anymore (wink emoji) (wink emoji) (tongue emoji) if im goin down ur comin w me h xxxxx

_ curlyhs _ : Oh my god. (dead emoji)

_ louthetommo has made the group public. _

_ louthetommo has added zayn, niallwhorean, hailstienz, ameliahhh, and payner to the group. _

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

 

Harry hadn’t previously been one for technology - not outside of his work. He loved a good book or a walk in nature to clear his head. He used social media to promote his business and such, but otherwise, he preferred a god phone call to hear his mum’s voice over a text message any day. Before Louis had gotten him into GroupMe, Harry had only kept essential Lifestyle and work-related apps on his phone. Things of importance, of course.

Now Harry had an addition to his phone that he had no idea what to do with. His phone - which, aside from business purposes - that he could abandon for a few days without caring, was suddenly burning a hole in his pocket. He clutched it tightly as he walked through his office rather than leaving it on his desk as he usually would. Set up a password, which was something he had never felt he had a use for before. He felt like anywhere he went, everyone secretly knew the one thing he was hiding. 

He had Louis Tomlinson’s nudes on his phone. 

Sure, obviously, Louis had sent them as a joke. Of course, he couldn’t have meant anything serious by them. But the thing was, Louis knew how to market himself, so it appeared. The pictures were flawless, full of tanned curves and sultry eyes that promised so much more than just a picture. Tattoos across a toned chest, a curved ass that made Harry’s mind go blank, and hips that drove him crazy. The pictures weren’t anything too explicit - an ass shot, a sultry smile with some sex’d up hair, and a hand stroking himself (but you couldn’t see too much because of the angle). But for Harry, they were driving him wild. 

He knew Louis was only joking, knew he was being overconfident and funny by sending them to Harry. Harry wondered who they were originally for. How long he’d been holding onto these, what made him decide to send them to Harry over other ones he probably had stashed away somewhere.

He knew Louis didn’t remember. They’d both been drunk but Harry didn’t realize until the next time he saw him, when Louis had acted like just a friend, two mates just getting to know each other after meeting at a wedding, that Louis really didn’t remember what had happened between them. 

Passionate and hot, Harry remembered it vividly even now, a month or so later. The way Louis had grabbed his hair, kissed down his neck and made Harry weak at the knees. Taking him on top of a pile of tablecloths and the “cotton ball” garland Louis had so easily made fun of before. His kisses were searing hot, burning Harry in the best way, the kind of burn that leaves a scar not on your skin, but on your soul. 

The way Louis grabbed his ass and called him baby. The way that Harry had kissed down that tanned skin, knew those curves even if it had only been once, twice, maybe even three times that single weekend. He’d missed his flight to get one last chance with those curves, how could he forget them?

So, maybe Louis had been drunk the first time. But he surely hadn’t been the second time or the third time... Either way, Lous didn’t treat him any differently and hadn’t mentioned it since. Harry felt like he had to be missing something, though. They were shagging each other rather consistently, and they seemed to enjoy each other’s company. 

If it were anyone besides  _ the world-renowned pop star and songwriter, Louis Tomlinson _ , Harry would know exactly what to do. Walk up to him, ask him out on a date, and seal the deal. Call a few days later for drinks, and then finally tell them that he really  _ liked _ them a few weeks later. But this wasn’t some random guy in a bar or a bird who lived down the street. Harry lost his focus when Louis was around. It felt like they were just on different pages sometimes - like Harry was left out of this huge secret that Louis seemed to know. 

  
Harry knew social cues, was the thing. Usually, he got the hint if someone wasn’t into him, and he knew the polite way to keep things going if someone was. His mum had raised him with manners,  _ thank you _ , but Louis was just a wild card. Sometimes they’d hang out and play FIFA all night with Liam and Niall, and other times Louis would pounce on him right as he answered the door. It was always hot and always good, with Louis. Harry wasn’t complaining about that. He just wished he knew what it was - were they boyfriends? Friends with benefits? Acquaintances? Harry was a go-with-the-flow kinda guy, really. But he felt himself starting to fall for these ocean blue eyes he seemed to be constantly waking up to, and he knew that he had to get to the bottom of it.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning :: this chapter contains (seemingly) under-negotiated kink, humiliation kink, D/s notes, (light) spanking, and orgasm control. if any of these things trigger you, feel free to skip this chapter, as it is 80% smut. :) just a quick update while I figure out some character progressions. 
> 
> if you're into that, enjoy!
> 
> EDIT :: i have combined chapters two and three just to suit the flow of the story better. this was updated on January 26, 2018. i do hope you still enjoy it!

Harry decided that, in an attempt to take over his life once again and regain some composure, that he was going to confront Louis. Not in a _mean_ way, of course, but he needed to figure out what was actually going on. Because Harry was a planner. And honestly, he needed to know what this whole thing with Louis was, because not only was it messing him up emotionally, but it was confusing his physical _life_.

(It might not seem like a big deal to some, but the thing is, that Harry needed to know how consistent this _thing_ was going to be, so he could know how much to buy when he went grocery shopping. How is he supposed to be a good host when he can’t know when his guests will be over? Is this a “ _hit and quit”_ , as Liam had explained to him, or more of a friend with benefits thing?

Obviously, Harry had to know. He had to be prepared for if Louis was going to stay the night after these… _encounters_. Just the thought made his cheeks pink.)

So, in an attempt to have some sense of control over his life, he decided to go ahead and do the only logical thing - bring Louis dinner. Holding a large, packed, reusable Whole Foods bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, Harry used his elbow to knock on the door. He frowned deeply when he was met with dark brown eyes instead of blue ones. “Is this the right address-” He said, before realizing he recognized the person.

“‘Arry! What’s up, mate?” Zayn said, an easy grin on his face as he opened the door and let Harry inside. He was standing (gloriously) in just his boxers, a blunt resting between his two fingers.

Harry flinched, because, well, he hadn’t exactly expected to see Zayn the second he walked into Louis’ flat. He hadn’t actually seen him since the not-wedding, so he wasn’t prepared for this encounter at all. He looked around curiously.

“Em. Hi.” He said, squinting because the room was awfully smokey. “Uh, is Louis here?”

Zayn laughed a bit. “Yeah. Course Louis is here.” He said and smiled, leaving a second of silence. “Oh, did you want to see him?”

Harry nodded silently, looking at the bags in his hands, then back at Zayn. “Um, yeah. It’s why I popped over…” He trailed. He took a second to look around. This flat seemed vaguely familiar. “Uh, which room is his?”

“You don’t remember?!” Zayn laughed out, dropping his blunt and quickly catching it, burning his hand and murmuring a _shit_ , before smirking at Harry. “Second door on the left, ya filthy animal.”

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

He stopped outside the door and took a breath to try and compose himself, raising a hand to knock, but he was interrupted when the door opened itself. Harry couldn’t help but jump. “Bullocks, I-”

Louis laughed, eyes crinkling a little bit. “Seems we’re both catching you off guard, huh? Z texted me that you were here. He’s awfully proud that he’s made you blush.” He said with a smile. “C’mon in, love.”

Harry just kind of nodded, following Louis into his room. Once he walked in he remembered, very clearly, that this was where Round Two happened (or was it Round 3? He was losing count), in Louis’ flat. He looked around and took in the room. It was large and more like a hotel suite than a normal bedroom, mini bar included. Harry strode across and set the bags down on the small table that was by the window, before turning to really _look_ at Louis.

He was dressed similarly to Zayn, however, Louis had sweats versus boxers. They drooped _deliciously_ and Harry could see Louis’ v-lines, remembering back to how he had appreciated them thoroughly that weekend. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair to pull himself together. Louis gave a sympathetic smile, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder if it was because Louis knew how attractive he was; knew how it affected other people in ways they couldn’t control, like-

“So, Harry. What brings you here unannounced?” Louis asked, an easy smile on his lips. He had leaned against the dresser now, and Harry had to pull his head up to look at something besides his crotch.

Harry didn’t know if his cheek could get redder. “I made you dinner.” He blurted out. “Because I’m just really fucking confused.”

Louis’ smile seemed to widen, but not in a mean way. “Let’s see what you made, hm?

Somehow that turned into a full-on picnic on Louis’ bed, both their lips stained red from the wine they were drinking straight out of the bottle.

“You’ve outdone yourself, H. That roast rivals the one my mum used to make every Sunday night.” He said and smiled, leaning back against the bed. He was wine tipsy, they both were, really. But Harry thought he saw something else in his eyes.

“Are you high?” He asked him curiously, watching Louis’ eyes crinkle as he grinned.

“Just a bit off the ground. Nothing crazy. Not like Zayn.” He said with smiled, reaching for another spoonful of the fresh mash Harry had made. “So, Harold. What’s gotten you so confused, then?” He asked finally, since Harry had spent their whole meal making awkward small talk about sports he didn’t watch and the weather.

Harry licked his lips softly. “Uh. I just.” He said, thinking through this all before speaking. “So. Do you, like, _remember_ , it?” He asked, painstakingly slow.

“It? What?” Louis asked with a slight tilt of the head. _Jesus, did he really not know what Harry was talking about?_

“ _It_ ,” he confirmed. “You… Woke up in my bed. Um. A few weeks ago. After the not-wedding?” He tried to put it delicately, in case Louis really had no idea.

That didn’t seem to be the case. “Yeah?” He asked, shrugging. “We had a good time, right?” He said, a soft smile on his lips.

“Of course, a great time... From what I remember.” He admitted with a small smile. “I just, uh. Wanted to make sure we were on the same page, because like, I have to go grocery shopping tomorrow, and-”

Louis grinned and slowly leaned in, kissing him slowly, thoroughly, in a way Harry hadn’t been kissed before. Louis kissed him like he wanted to be the first person to kiss Harry in every single way possible. Soft and sweet, light nibbles, and just a bit of tongue. Harry couldn’t help but lean into it, gasping, letting his hand knot in Louis’ hair, the other running his thumb over his stubble. He tasted like red wine and unfulfilled promises, and Harry honestly loved both of those things. He couldn’t help himself, kissing down the column of Louis’ neck, letting a hand trail down to his bare chest at the same time that Harry felt Louis playing with the edge of his shirt.

Louis smirked, pulling Harry’s t-shirt off with ease, before pressing him down onto the bed, dishes forgotten on the other side of the California King. He ran a hand through Harry’s hair, almost fondly before kissing down his neck, leaving a few light marks, causing Harry to close his eyes and let out a soft moan.

“Think we’re on the same page, then.” He said simply, before working his way down further. Harry’s back arched as Louis kissed down the expanse of his torso, pulling Harry’s jeans down without even taking the time to undo the button. He took his pants off with them, tossing Harry’s clothes into a limp pile on the floor. He kissed Harry’s hips, motioning for him to roll onto his stomach.

Harry did so without question, his mind too full to even second guess doing as Louis instructed. He swallowed, but nodded and did as asked when Louis instructed, “Hold on to the headboard, yeah? Good lad,” and went digging through his drawer.

Harry let his fingers wrap around the metal rods of the headboard, his eyes closing as he leaned his head against the pillows. He felt a little exposed and was still a bit miffed about how he kept ending up in these situations. At least this time he was mostly sober, would be able to remember every detail. He crossed an ankle over the other in a poor attempt at modesty.

Louis sat on the back of his thighs a few seconds later, his sweatpants gone if the skin to skin contact meant anything. Harry gripped the headboard a little more, unsure how he was impossibly turned on from a little kissing and a few comments. Louis kissed at the column of his neck once, before Harry felt a lubed finger toying at his entrance.

Harry gasped. He hadn’t even touched down there since _that night_ , because, well… he just knew it wouldn’t feel as good. He was sure he was tight, because he usually was a frequent masturbator and toy user, but lately, he had been sticking to his hand to get the job done. He could feel Louis smirking as he took his free hand and grabbed Harry’s left arsecheek, spreading him open. Harry had the decency to blush as he felt the cool air touch his hole before he felt Louis rubbing it again. He kept his grip on Harry’s arse firm and his rubbing at his hole light. Harry squirmed a little at the pleasure, pressing his knees together tighter as if it would help.

Louis landed a smack on his arse, nothing too hard. “Feels good, hm?” he asked. Harry nodded, but he seemed to be waiting for more of an answer than that. After a second of silence, Louis gave a harder smack, one that caused Harry to gasp, because,  _oh._ He hadn’t imagined he might like that. “Feels good?” He asked again, slower.

Harry nodded vigorously. “Y-yeah. Feels so good.”  And then Louis pressed his hard cock against Harry’s arse.

Harry was sure he looked so wanton, arching his back and begging for it. “Please, Lou. Fuck me.” He groaned out, before feeling a hand press his back, pushing him back into the bed.

“Only good boys get this,” He said, making his point by rubbing his fully hard cock against Harry’s hole. Harry couldn’t stop the whine that escaped his lips. “But if I do remember, you owe me an orgasm, love. Came more than I did last time.” He said, and Harry didn’t remember that but didn’t try to protest, because, _damn_ , this was hot. “You weren’t good. You’ll keep me warm though after, right?”

Harry nodded blearily. “Mhm.” He said. He felt like he was swimming, as Louis rubbed his hard cock against his hole. He knew Louis had said he wouldn’t, but Harry was sure Louis was going to fuck him. His eyes widened in surprise, however, when Louis drizzled the lube right onto his arse cheeks. He used two fingers to rub it down the crease, covering Harry’s crack liberally, before letting his cock slide in, pressing at Harry’s hole but not entering. Harry was so hard, pressed between the mattress and his chest, and he bit his lip to lessen the noise from his moans.

Slowly, Louis began to fuck him, but not his hole, just right between his cheeks. Harry’s cheeks were bright red as he realized what Louis was doing, and realized how hard he was because of it. He whimpered, pressing his arse up, almost presenting it to Louis, who seemed to ignore the invitation. After a minute or so of Louis panting as he fucked Harry’s actual _ass_ , Harry felt a finger slowly inset itself inside him. “Look at you,” Louis panted, keeping his short thrusts in time with his finger slowly stretching Harry. “Taking this like a good boy. Bet you’re so hard for me. Bet you want to come so bad.”  He said, adding another finger. Harry couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips, going right into the pillow. “You’ll make sure I’m pleased next time, won’t you Harry?” He asked, scissoring him slowly. Harry nodded, only to receive a harsh smack on his right cheek. “ _Won’t you, Harold?”_ he asked again, leaving another harsh spank that made Harry curse out.

“Fuck!” He cried, unable to stop his hips from thrusting against the bed. “Yes. I-I’ll make sure you’re -fuck, _pleased_.” He said, Louis, having given him incentive by spanking him again.

That seemed to appease Louis, who continued to thrust shallowly into Harry’s arse crack, leaving a few spanks as he went along, drawing himself closer and closer. He groaned out. “Damn, Harry. Look at you.” He sounded like he was in awe. “Fucked out and pretty for me, with your fucking _ankles crossed,_ rock hard and I haven’t barely touched you.” He said, pulling his fingers out of Harry slowly. Harry whined at the loss. He felt Louis rolling him onto his back. “Here, love. Be good and swallow it all.” He said, and before Harry could blink, Louis had climbed onto his chest, his red cock throbbing in his hands, an inch from Harry’s mouth. He wanted to take it all, opening his mouth widely. Louis tutted his tongue. “Greedy boy. You only get the tip.”

Harry flushed, shame coursing through his veins. He _was_ greedy, to want Louis’ whole gorgeous cock when he obviously hadn’t pleased him well enough last time. Louis fed him his cock - tip only, as promised - only needing a second before he spilled his seed into Harry’s mouth.  Harry swallowed all that he could, a few drops escaping and trailing down his chin. Louis gave him a loving smile, feeding the drops back into his mouth. He felt like he was going to burst with joy when Louis pushed him back onto his chest and moved back to his arse, to _finally_ fuck him, but he was sorely confused when Louis slid himself in, slow as possible.

“Louis, please,” he whined out, gripping the sheets.

He seated himself completely in Harry’s arse, before smirking. “You said you’d keep me warm, love. This is your punishment - you don’t get to come.”

“I-” Harry went to protest, but Louis wasn’t having it, rolling them so they were spooning, his slowly softening cock staying nice and warm in Harry’s hole.

“Shh, love. Take it like a good boy.” Louis whispered into his ear. Harry felt his cock jump, and seconds later Louis wrapped his hand around it, gripping him tightly but not painfully. “Don’t want you getting too much pleasure, hm?”

“Louis, please,” He tried, one last time. This denial was making him even harder.

Louis landed a final spank on his arse. “Shh. Be a good boy, Harry.”

So Harry did. He stayed silent, wondering how on earth he ended up in Louis Tomlinson’s bed, again, and how Louis seemed to know exactly what buttons to push.

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Harry woke up in what could only be considered heaven on earth.

At some point during their mid-evening nap, Louis must have pulled out and turned over. Harry blushed just thinking of the previous events. God, he was pathetic. However, that wasn’t important because now, he had his arms around Louis freaking Tomlinson, and his cock was nestled perfectly between his million dollar bum. Harry sighed softly, pulling Louis closer to his chest.

He was still hard - of course, he was. It already was foggy but he was pretty sure his dream had consisted solely of Louis, and Louis’ arse, and all things Tomlinson. So waking up in his bed, pressed against the man himself, well. It was just a given.

Harry groaned softly, pressing his hard cock against Louis’ arse. He’d been hard for so long, he was sure it wouldn’t take him long at all. Rutting up slowly, running a hand mindlessly down Louis’ side, down his curves, to grip at his thigh as he rutted against his bum. It had to be handcrafted by God, Harry was sure.

Harry felt Louis press back against him and cursed under his breath. “Fuck, Lou-”, only just after, all the pleasure seemed to disappear.

Louis turned to face Harry, a playful smirk on his lips. “I vaguely remember telling you that you weren’t allowed to come. So what on earth could you possibly be doing with my arse, Harry?”

Harry stammered over his words a bit. “But that was - before, you know -” He said, cheeks blushing red as Louis began to laugh.

“Before what? Our little nap?” He asked, watching Harry nod. “You don’t possibly mean that you thought because you took a nap that I’d make you come. Do you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I suppose I need to be a bit more clear.” He said and got up, pushing his body off the bed. He walked off to the closet, turning on the light and digging around for a minute.

Harry had sat up by the time Louis wandered back over, but he was still hard, tenting the blanket that lay over his lap. Just the look of Louis’ face made him flush with embarrassment. “I-um. You don’t have to make me come. I’m sorry. I just, fuck-” He tried to explain but was cut off by Louis’ laughing.

“Oh, love. I know I don’t have to make you come. And I won’t be. But I will be teaching you a lesson. I thought you knew all about manners, Harry. So I think you’ll understand why I am so confused and shocked that you feel the need to disrespect me. When I say that you will not be coming, you won’t be, until I give you permission. Do you understand me?”

Harry nodded. He felt his stomach twisting at Louis’ words, feeling more like a child being scolded for stealing a cookie. He saw Louis raise a brow and quickly answered him. “Yes, I understand. I’m so sorry that I made you feel disrespected.” He said quickly, noticing Louis seemed to be expecting more from him. “I know I was being very, selfish.” He said, feeling the heat radiating off his cheeks. “After I didn’t please you properly last time. I’ll do anything to make up for it. To show you my manners. I’m so very sorry.”

He wasn’t really sure where these words were coming from, was the thing. He knew it was the right thing to say and it was the honest truth coming from his lips, but it made his blush deepen.

Louis nodded, seemingly pleased with the answer. “So very sorry, who?” Louis asked, arms crossed over his chest. He was looming over Harry, seemingly, waiting for an answer.

Harry swallowed. Yeah. This felt about right. “Sir. I’m so very sorry, sir.”

Louis nodded, smiling. “Good boy. Let’s go ahead then, shall we?” Louis sat on the edge of the bed, unceremoniously pulling Harry over his lap.

Louis adjusted him, handling Harry like he was more a doll than a person, and Harry ignored how he felt his cock jump at that. Louis fixed Harry so that Harry’s arse was up in the middle of his lap, and that Harry’s hard cock was nestled between Louis’ thighs. Harry moaned at that, cursing out as Louis took a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back, making him arch his back. His legs rested on the bed as did his chest, nipples rubbing against the fabric. He felt like he was being tortured in heaven.

Louis wasted no time. Keeping his left hand in Harry’s hair, his right hand was quick to start the spanking. Harry felt the shame swirling in his stomach. Louis was just warming him up so it didn’t hurt much, but it wasn’t meant to hurt. Harry liked pain, that much he was sure Louis was aware of. It was meant to… Embarrass him, and it was working.

“How does this feel, Harry? Can’t control yourself, so little self-control in fact that you end up here, over my lap. Getting spanked like you’re in Nursery school. It’s what you’ve acted like. You just can’t keep your hands to yourself. Can’t pleasure me like I pleasure you. Selfish, aren’t you?” Louis doled out the spanking cheek by cheek, going midway down his thighs and all over his arse.

Harry felt tears prickling in his eyes. “M’sorry, sir. I- fuck, I’ll behave better next time.” He promised, fingers clenching at the duvet. He felt his cock throbbing though, loving all the attention. It seemed to thrive under the words Louis was saying to him. He was sure his arse was bright red too, a contrast from his pale skin.

The spanks began to get harder, focused right on his sit spots. Harry had tears running down his cheeks, apologizing profusely as Louis spanked him, but Louis showed no mercy. “You feel this?” He asked as he spanked him, rhythmically and mercilessly, “I want you to remember this every time you sit down this week. That you were naughty and had to have your arse spanked raw for you to finally start using your manners properly. You’re going to send me pictures daily of your arse, also. If it fades too quickly, I won’t hesitate to touch it up, lest you forget why you received this spanking in the first place.”

Harry began to sob as Louis let go of his hair, spanking him in earnest. He was so humiliated with himself and his behavior, so thankful for Louis taking care of him, his arse was burning with the pain, and yet his cock was hard. He felt Louis squeeze his thighs together. Fuck, Louis was absolutely ruining him.

Minutes later, Louis deemed him thoroughly spanked, and pulled him up to sit on his lap. Harry winced and tried to alleviate the pressure, but Louis gave him a look. “It’s okay. Your spanking is done. Now you need to go stand in the corner - you know what I want, nose pressed against the wall - and think about your punishment. And how you can please me better next time. We’ll just do ten minutes today, love.” He said and patted his thigh.

Harry’s cheeks were as red as his bum, and he stood on shaky legs. He walked to the corner and shamefully pressed his nose into the crook of the wall, closing his eyes. He clasped his hands behind his back. He was still so fucking hard. He tried not to think about that, instead listing the ways he planned to pleasure Louis in the future.

Soon, Louis was behind him. “There we go, over the bed, love.” He said.

Harry nodded and let his body lay on the edge of the bed. He had a good idea of what was coming.

His suspicions were confirmed when Louis pulled a butt plug from his nightstand. “First thing we’re going to start with, baby, is making sure you’re more accessible to me.” He said, lubing his fingers and slowly pushing two inside Harry. Harry let out a soft gasp. He was pretty open from earlier when Louis used him for warming. He blushed again at the thought. Louis worked him open slowly. “I want you to plug yourself every day, so this little arse of yours is ready for me whenever I want you. 6 am to 6 pm, you hear me?”

Harry nodded, feeling Louis pull his fingers away. He felt a nice, slick, metal plug filling him. He moaned and pressed his arse up into it.

Louis didn’t comment on it. “I don’t care where you are, okay? Need to keep you ready to please me, hm? Don’t want an accident like this happening again.”

“No, sir. I’ll be ready.” Harry assured, breathily. He didn’t mind the idea of that, having to make sure he was free every day to plug himself. Not because he wanted to - although he did - but because Louis was telling him to. Because Louis deserved quick and easy access to Harry’s arse. He felt a shiver run down his spine. He deserved the access whenever he wanted it. And Harry would make sure he was ready.  
“I’m sure you will.” He said, for the first time having a kind tone. “We’re almost done, love. Now head to my desk, please? Sit on the chair like my good boy.”

Harry sat on the wooden chair and gasped, but quieted after a look from Louis. He was handed a notebook and a pen. “I want you to write why I spanked you, and what you plan on doing to improve next time.”

Within minutes, Harry had filled the page and handed it to Louis to look over. Like a child having their mum check their homework, he had to get Louis’ approval. He received a nod, and Louis put the notebook away. He smiled at Harry. 

“Okay, baby. Now I want you to thank me for taking the time to punish you, and for teaching you how to behave.” He said simply.

Harry seemed to surprise Louis though when he dropped to his knees. “Thank you, sir. I will be your good boy. Use my manners. Thank you for caring for me.” He said, pulling Louis’ cock out, and taking him down all at once.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! bookmark and comment if you need more h+l in your life! :)
> 
> TO CLARIFY: while the kink seems completely unnegotiated, it is not. this will become clear in a few chapters. don't worry. Harry + Louis are completely safe and good, they just don't realize that some parties don't remember all of the events that happened that wedding night ;) I don't want to give a lot away, so consider that a spoiler. 
> 
> x m
> 
> EDIT :: i have combined chapters two and three just to suit the flow of the story better. this was updated on January 26, 2018. i do hope you still enjoy it!


	3. three

After walking home with a sore arse and dirty Tupperware, Harry successfully avoided Louis for a while. 

The thing was, Harry didn’t exactly  _ understand _ what this thing between himself and Harry was. Not that he wasn’t into it, because  _ damn _ , he sure was. But things with Louis made him tend to lose focus. Mess up his daily habits and routines, things that Harry usually was very serious about. And setting aside his professional life, he didn’t understand it sexually. In the moment, it was hot and making him hard - how Louis had this ability to just  _ be _ , and to be so strong and in charge. It made Harry’s blood pressure rise just thinking about how it felt. But afterward, once they were laid up in bed, with Master Chef reruns playing on the telly, Harry always felt exposed and embarrassed.

(And not in the sexy way. Not in the kind that made him want to pull off his boxers and bend over for round two, but in the way that made him feel awkward and self conscious about everything. Even after the scene was over, Louis had assured him that he’d done  _ amazing _ , that he was  _ so good, so sweet _ . And Harry had loved that. But once the clothes were back on and Louis was wearing his dorky glasses and chatting about how her sister was pissing him off because she won’t dump her shitty boyfriend, Harry just felt inferior. 

How could he not? Louis had stuck his soft cock up his arse and then spanked him until he was crying. So what if it felt good in the moment. Harry Styles still (hopefully) had some dignity remaining. So when Louis sighed and smiled, pulling Harry closer against his chest, murmuring a soft, “ _ you okay? _ ”, Harry couldn’t find it in him to do anything besides nod, giving a soft smile before looking away and making some comment about the girl’s awful knife skills.

Harry was right. She ended up slicing her finger open by the end of the episode. Harry felt like he could kind of relate to that - when you just  _ know _ something is going to happen, you’re setting yourself up for it  _ really _ , and then it just… Does.)

All confusing sexual experiences aside, Harry was actually a busy person. He wasn’t kidding when he told Walter that running a million-dollar business took a lot of work. It was already mid-January and wedding season was fast approaching. While Rose and the team were locking down and signing on new clients, getting general themes and vendors, and budgeting out money, Harry had a  _ lot _ to do himself. He was the face  _ Styles Affairs _ , after all. He was the one bridezillas wanted to speak to when things were going “horribly wrong”, he was the man people wanted approval from at every aspect of the planning stage, and he was the one who had to make 12+ months of work, thousands of dollars spent, tons of people and multiple vendors all seem seamless to ensure a perfect wedding. 

Harry took his job seriously, because he valued weddings. He knew that they were important because if Harry were being  _ honest _ , he would tell you that no good marriage starts without a good wedding. How can you expect ‘til death do us part, if you can’t agree on a wedding cake flavor? See, Harry knew this first hand. His own parents and those of almost everyone he knew were divorced. Which was fine. Harry had accepted that long ago. However, people he’d known whose marriages were successful had  _ amazing weddings _ , filled with people championing on their successes and their dreams just as much as they were. And that belief left Harry with some big shoes to fill. So even if it started off as purposefully avoiding Louis, that’s not how it kept going. A few missed calls turned into a week, which turned into another once Harry realized Louis was halfway around the world for some songwriting sessions.

✦ ✧ 

“M’like a crow on a wire, you’re the shining distraction that makes me fly..  _ hoooommeee _ .” 

Harry couldn’t help the smile that was playing on his lips. He saw sat in Niall’s flat,  _ because, Harry, you need a change of pace every once in awhile. You’re pale as a ghost, mate, and I’m lonely as fuck while Am’s gone.  _ Which just wasn’t something he could say no to. He’d known Niall since they were both young. Niall was a expat from Ireland who had these crazy dreams of becoming a star, and Harry was bright-eyed and full of  expectations on how life would go - head to uni, join a fraternity, find a partner, graduate, get married, have kids. Starting his own design firm was somewhere on the list, also, but  _ where _ that fit in wasn’t so important. 

Because if he had the kids and the husband and the degree in his hand, he would be able to find his way. Or so he’d reasoned. Now he found himself, five years later, his plan completely out the window. Sure, he’d gone to uni, studied interior design at a  _ posh _ school in America. He joined the fraternity. Sure, no one would expect him to be a chair of the  ΣΑΕ alumni chapter near him, but it was one of the things in life he took very seriously. He’d graduated,  _ cum laude, thank you, _ and was the proud owner of not a design firm, but a fine event planning company. The husband and kids were another story, however. Life didn’t pan out the way Harry intended, but he supposed that for now, it was better this way. Having fun and drinking beer out of plastic cups. Unbuttoning his shirt a bit more than he should, because he loved feeling people’s eyes on him. Being able to dedicate 100% of himself to his business and his dreams. 

While he may not have found a husband/partner/boyfriend/soulmate, he  _ did _ have Niall, who had convinced his parents to let him move to the States and attend school with Harry. Niall was his  _ brother _ , they’d been through so much. Heartbreak, sickness, sadness, joy - Niall was the one who helped him pull off his first wedding, only requesting a few cases of beer and some gas money in return. In turn, he’d always been there for Niall. Suffering through countless blind double dates, beer-pong buddies, bailing him out of jail,  _ twice _ . But if you asked him, Harry’s biggest contribution to Niall’s life was encouraging him to really pursue songwriting. Niall had gotten his degree in marketing, but seemed to hate not only his internship, but his first job, also. So Harry urged him. “ _ Niall _ , you have tons of notebooks sitting here, full of songs you’ve poured your heart into.” He said, looking at him. “Just put yourself out there.”

And he did. And only a few weeks later, Capitol Records was paying  _ him _ to cut a demo of his song to sell to artists. So  _ technically _ , Harry has Niall to thank for the publicity he got from Zayn’s  _ not wedding _ , because Niall had sold a song to Ed Sheeran, who had played it for Simon Cowell, who was managing Little Mix, and well, Niall had just talked Harry up so well that Perrie was ready to risk her wedding on him.

Harry leaned back in his seat and smiled, just thinking about it.

✦ ✧

“Yeah I know you’re love’s not real, but that’s not the way it feels… That’s not the way you feel.” Niall hummed more than sang. He was laid sideways on the couch, guitar hung lazily over his body as he picked at the strings. 

Harry pursed his lips. “Well, that’s sad.” He said with a frown. “S’that a new one?” He asked, shutting his computer to look at him.

“Just wrote it last night.” He said, smiling softly, his fingers working over the strings. “S’about Amelia.”

_ That _ made Harry set his laptop aside and go sit beside him. “ _ That  _ was about Amelia?” He asked. “Thought  _ Little Things  _ and  _ Once In A Lifetime _ were about Am..” He trailed, a little concerned. “You alright?” He asked after a second, a hand resting on NIall’s shoulder as he set his guitar down and sighed.

He shrugged a bit. “They are about her. I’m fine.” He said, before laughing a little sadly. “I guess. I’ve been thinking about it, and like, there  _ has _ to be a catch, H.” He said plainly.

Harry raised a brow. “A catch?”

Niall nodded, deflating back into the sofa behind him. “I told her I loved her.” He said, looking at Harry. “And she laughed, and hugged me. And it’s not like I  _ expected  _ her to say it back right then, but I figured she would eventually.” He said. “It’s been weeks. And she keeps giving me these  _ glances _ , like she’s in disbelief. Maybe she’s embarrassed for me?” He asked. “But I’ll  _ keep _ falling for it, every fuckin’ day.” He emphasized, by tapping his leg. “She’s beautiful without trying, ya know? She’s my  _ Girl Almighty -  _ lighting up a room without even trying, the center of my attention. And  _ damn,  _ Harry. I want to  _ wife her up _ !” He lamented. 

Harry kept his eyes on NIall as he opted to pace around the living room. “I want to come home to her after having been in LA for a month. I want her in sweatpants and having not showered in 3 days. I want her sick and sad and angry, because  _ fuck _ , she gets angry. And I love her anyways. I love her when she hates me for writing songs about the way she takes her dress off, and the knowing glances she gives me. And I love her anyways when she eats the last of the snacks and doesn’t buy new ones.” He said, and Harry gave him a second to realize he was about done.

“So yeah,” He said, looking Harry in the eyes from across the room. “It’s a fuckin’ sad song. And it’s about Am. But it’s okay.” He promised. “You know us, H. Best mates who get dicked up the arse by our fucked up expectations.”

Harry nodded, scoffing. “ _ Literally,”  _ he agreed.

Niall couldn’t help but smirk. “Yeah, mate. Can’t imagine how  _ hard _ that is, with Lou,” he snickered at his dirty pun.

“What about Louis?” Harry frowned, defensive. “I didn’t mention him once.”

“You’re an open book, H.” He laughed. “We’ve all known for awhile.”

Harry couldn’t help but fall quiet, and Niall seemed to notice. “Okay. Ya know, I didn’t ask because I know ya like your privacy, but what the  _ fuck _ s’up with you two?”

“I wish I could tell you.” Harry lamented, leaning back against the couch dramatically. “But sadly, I’ve got no fucking clue myself.” He said with a sad smile. “It was just fun at first, you know -”

“Getting fucked on a pile of tablecloths usually is,” Niall interjected with a smirk.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Should’ve  _ never _ told you and Leemo that, but too late now.” He shrugged. “It was just -  _ fun _ . Dirty and flirty and  _ sexy _ ,” He snickered at the face Niall made. “But then he’s gone for a month and I feel out of touch, ya know?” He asked. “It’s like everything is perfect when he’s here, but then next thing I see he’s out with a bird on some rag. I just wish he was  _ clearer _ , like, about what this is. Is it fun, casual sex? Does he like me, even a little?” He asked, shaking his head. “Sounds a bit like your song.”

Niall nodded. “At least you haven’t fallen in love with him yet.”

Harry gave a smile, agreeing. “Yet.”

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

  
  


The thing about Louis is, as a world renowned pop star, he kind of flickered into people’s lives as he pleased. Like a candle flame, sometimes he was there and sometimes he wasn’t - and the aftermath was always different. Sometimes he would stay for awhile and leave a room scented with his perfume, and other times he’d completely ruin someone, leaving nothing left in the jar he was previously in. Either way, as much as Harry wanted him to be, Louis wasn’t really a constant in his life. Sure, he’d realized that he probably didn’t fall at the  _ top _ of Harry’s list, but it had figured he at least had a place on it. That Louis cared enough to answer back his silly GroupMe’s that Harry would send, or maybe comment back to him on Instagram, but it didn’t happen.

Weeks turned into months, and Harry’s sweetness towards Louis began to turn a little sour. They were friends, right? So, maybe there had been a drunken shag or two, but he was almost sure Louis didn’t remember that. And yeah, Louis had sent him nudes, but it was all a joke, right? Harry kept on drifting back to that conversation, because in his mind, that’s where it all went wrong. He was just frustrated, because he felt like he had a right to know if Louis - this beautiful candle, smelling like sweet like cinnamon and yet-to-be-fulfilled promises - was in his life still or if the candle had been burnt down to the last little bit, that all he got was a few weeks of Tomlinson and that the rest was just a faint afterglow Harry would be able to smell just a whiff of if he stood in the right place in his flat, with the breeze blowing. He looked back at his couch, the place Louis had constantly made himself at home when he couldn’t sleep or was being bothered in his own house, and for the first time, Harry wondered how many other people Louis had. How many other people he ran to when he was scared and vulnerable like the world wouldn’t believe that Louis Tomlinson could be - how many other people saw him the way Harry did… Full of bright blue eyes, a contagious laughter, and self confidence that made Harry’s cheeks rosy with remembrance from the nights they’d shared together. 

So to say Harry was bitter would be wrong, it was just that he was confused. He was getting  bad aftertaste from a scent he’d come to really like so dearly so quickly.

Maybe it was time to get a new candle. 

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

 

_ curlyhs has started a group chat. _

_ curlyhs has added niallwhorean, ameliahhh, zayn, payner, and hailstienz to the group _

_ curlyhs: _ hello mates! Rager at my place tomorrow night, 9pm don’t be late! - H

_ zayn:  _ new phone who this

_ zayn:  _ oh wait no need to ask bc who fuckin signs off at the end of their messages 

_ curlyhs: :(  _ -H

_ payner: _ be nice zayn !! 

_ niallwhorean:  _ zee dusnt know what nice means ya cunt

_ ameliahhh:  _ fuck off niall, that’s offensive to women everywhere (eye roll emoji)

_ niallwhorean _ : baby im soooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyy

_ hailstienz:  _ count me in hazza! I’ll bring the natty light ;)

_ zayn _ : if there’s natty light i’m not coming

_ ameliahhh:  _ whoops sorry forgot yer posh arse was too good for beer 

_ niallwhorean: _ ATTA GIRL

_ payner: _ stop bullying zayn ams!!!! i’ll buy the pizza and crisps!

_ zayn:  _ yeah ams (laughing emoji) & lou nd i wil bring the tunessss

_ curlyhs _ : em. No.

_ hailstienz:  _ cmon h! lou knows this sick dj

_ curlyhs:  _ he’s not invited sorry

_ curlyhs:  _ xxx see you tomorrow!

_ zayn:  _ well damn then

_ zayn:  _ trouble in paradise???

✦ ✧

“What are you  _ doing _ here?” Harry spat at Louis, grabbing the doorframe to stop himself from tripping.

He was only tipsy, surely, but being as clumsy as he was without alcohol, he was a bit of a hazard. He’d been pregaming all day as he made his flat rager-proof, hiding the valuables and locking all of the doors he wanted people to stay out of. Stocked the toilet paper and made sure the soap dispensers were full, dusted some baseboards, all of the normal things. He’d made sure not to drink too much so he could enjoy his very first rager.

“Zayn invited me!” Louis said happily, kissing his cheek before brushing past him, setting two bottles of Fireball on the table along with the beer and other liquor. 

Harry followed after him. “Unfortunately, you heard wrong and actually you were  _ not _ invited. Sorry. You can take these and go.” He said, handing the bottles back to Louis. 

Louis frowned a bit, setting the bottles back onto the table. “Are you serious, then?” He asked, repeating himself when the music got louder and Harry furrowed his brows, yelling  _ What? _ “You’re fuckin’ legit?” He asked loudly.

Harry nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Louis grabbed at his arm and pulled him back to Harry’s room, finding where Harry had hidden the key (it suddenly occurred to Harry that maybe on top of the door frame wasn’t the  _ best _ place to hide a key..), before pulling Harry in behind him and closing the door.

Harry could hear the baseline thumping out in the living room. “What, Louis? I have a rager to be hosting.”

Louis couldn’t help but give a chuckle. “First off, ragers host themselves when they’re this small.” He said, smiling endearingly at Harry’s pout. “And second, why are you mad at me?”

Harry raised his brows. “M’not.” He said, green eyes looking into Louis’ blue. 

“Are you sure?” Louis asked, “Because I think-”

Harry didn’t need more convincing. “See, the thing is, that I just don’t  _ understand _ .” He said, without giving Louis a second to edge his opinion in. “I feel like, I get so confused and conflicted and so wanting. I feel like I could love you. If I wanted to. If you let me.” He said, quietly. “But things are just hazy and confusing and I feel like I’m left out of the loop; like I’m pushing and forcing so hard when this whole thing should be, like,  _ organic _ .” He insisted, running a hand through his hair. “It should be natural and fun and  _ easy _ , and I just -” Harry took a second to compile his thoughts, surprised Louis didn’t try to interrupt him yet. “It isn’t organic, is it, like that? This - whatever it is, orgasms or heart palpitations, it’s supposed to be organic and  _ right _ , not forced and presumptuous.’

Louis took all that in, nodding, a soft smile on his lips. “You think you could love me?” He asked him, taking a step closer, letting his hand find Harry’s, holding it gently. “You’re right - it’s supposed to be organic and easy. And  _ fuck _ , I’m sorry if I make it annoying and confusing and complicated.” He said, shaking his head. “Shit, I’m the worst at this thing.” He admitted. “But I don’t want you to overthink it, okay? Let it happen.” He insisted. “Don’t make yourself love me if you can’t - and don’t worry about what anyone else thinks of what we do, okay?” He said and smiled. “You make me happy,  _ so _ happy, Harry. If I don’t make you feel the same way, something needs to change. You deserve happiness.”

Harry couldn’t help but hug him. “You _ do _ make me happy,” he insisted, smiling as Louis’ arms wrapped around him. “I must just be overthinking it all.” He murmured. “It’s just that - sometimes it’s so hard to be around you because I can’t  _ focus,  _ fuck, or even  _ breathe _ right when you’re there.” He admitted. “I keep feeling like I’m out of the loop or something, you know? Like I’m missing out on the big secret everyone else is a part of.”

Louis kissed him softly. “It’s okay,” he promised him, smiling. “We’ll figure it all out eventually.”

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

  
  


“Harry, your next appointment is here whenever you are ready!” Rose called in his door.

“Thanks, hun.” He said back, quickly typing out some notes as he balanced his phone on his shoulder. Of course, this was a bride he’d met with yesterday who  _ knows that Harry said that dusty rose and mauve are the same thing, but that mauve sounds like a kind of vomit, so she would rather not have mauve colored tablecloths. _ Harry told her that he  _ completely _ understands where she is coming from - who would like to see vomit at a wedding? - then assured her that he would instead find the same tablecloths in dusty rose. Once he hung up the phone, he rolled his eyes and sent an email to the vendor, asking them to change the name of the color on the receipt. These kinds of brides would be the death of him.

Harry sent the email and pushed away from his desk. He buttoned his suit jacket and went out to meet his next client. “Eleanor Calder?” He called, looking out into the waiting room.

“So nice to meet you!” The brunette said once she stood, shaking Harry’s hand. “I have heard such amazing things about you, and your work is amazing.” She gushed, as Harry led her back to his office.

That made Harry smile. Sometimes, it was so easy to get wrapped up in how a napkin looks on a table that he forgets how much people enjoy the big picture. “Thank you. I’m glad to hear that.” He showed Eleanor to her seat and offered her tea. Once they both had a fresh cup, Harry smiled at her. “Well, congratulations. I know your file says you’ve just recently gotten engaged - a few weeks ago?” He asked with a smile. 

Eleanor nodded happily. “Yes, two weeks ago. My fiance proposed in front of the Eiffel Tower on our anniversary trip. Right romantic. Wrote me a song and everything.” She gushed. “He should be here soon, of course. He’s running a little late.”

Harry smiled. “That sounds absolutely magical. I’ll do my part to make sure your wedding lives up to the expectation.” He said. “And don’t worry. The first consultation is mostly about the bride anyways - it is  _ your _ special day.” He said, sharing a giggle with her. “So tell me, when you think down the line to next year, what would you like to see?” He asked. “When you think of love - forever, passionate, true, love, what do you think of?”

Eleanor crossed a leg over the other, folding her hands in her lap. “That’s a good question. I really love the idea of muted baby blue and light grey. I think those colors - soft,  _ of course _ \- can be so romantic. Matches my fiance’s eyes. I think I want it to feel like - there’s a room full of people, right? Celebrating our love along with us, championing us on. But it’s private too. Intimate. Where I can look in his eyes and the rest of the world can fade away, because I’m finally Mrs. Tomlinson. I’m finally his wife.”

Harry was nodding along, trying to picture it in his head. He saw twinkly lights and dark, fabric draped walls. With fog that would make them remember their proposal in France, their last name monogrammed on the wall - “What was that?” Harry asked, finally hearing exactly what she had said.

“That I’d finally be his wife. Mrs. Tomlinson.” She gushed. “It’s crazy to think about, isn’t it? It starts off with a ring on a finger and a handful of months later, it’s a new last name and a life that’s completely different,” Eleanor said, obviously elated and oblivious to Harry’s discomfort. “I do like the idea of the fog and the twinkly lights.” Had he been saying all that out loud? “I was thinking of, maybe something like-”

“El, remember, no cotton balls!” 

Harry’s eyes flashed up to meet Louis’, but they weren’t even looking at him. He walked in and pressed a sweet kiss to his fiance’s lips, before sitting down beside her. “Sorry I’m late, love. You know how flying into Heathrow is.” He said with a shake of his head.

“Flights are always running late,” Harry mumbled just as Eleanor nodded and said “You can’t ever expect to get out of there in a timely manner.” 

(He really couldn’t help it. Any other time he’d heard Louis call someone love, it was  _ him _ .)

That made Eleanor giggle. “Louis. Have you met Harry? Harry, this is my fiance, Louis Tomlinson. Boo, this is Harry. Harry’s the one who did all those amazing weddings I’ve shown you? Meghan Markle’s nuptials, Hannah and Evan’s wedding - oh! Harry also did Perrie and Zayn’s wedding! You have to remember that night!” She said, eyes bright. “It was  _ so _ breathtaking. Loved that handmade garland. I was so upset that I got sick and had to call it quits early. No one ever wants to miss a Styles Wedding.”

Some part of Harry knew well enough to pretend to feel fond and proud, but inside he felt like he was falling apart. He sipped his tea, trying to relive his now dry throat. He had absolutely no idea what to say at the moment, besides, “That very garland is what your soon-to-be-husband is referring to as a cottonball.”

That made Louis and El both laugh. Harry was feeling ill himself.

“You know, I always tell couples - not that I’m a premarital counselor or anything, but I’ve seen my share of couples - I tell them that if they can’t agree on decorations, then how long can their relationship really last?”

Eleanor clapped once, cutely, obviously taking it as a joke. “Right? Sadly, those couples don’t know how to compromise like Lou and I do.” She said and smiled. “I’m sure, if it’s what I really wanted, Lou would agree to some garland.” She said, not doubting her statement for a second.

Harry didn’t miss the way Louis zoned out for a second when Eleanor brought up the garland. He had to be remembering it too - the way he had taken Harry’s wrists and tied them together to get him to stop moving, how he’d kissed down Harry’s torso and tickled him with the puffy pieces of garland. Held onto it while he fucked Harry deep into a pile of tablecloths once everyone else had left. Had done it (apparently) while knowing his girlfriend had gone home sick. 

He didn’t miss the way Louis swallowed, before he nodded. He looked straight into Harry’s eyes as he said,  “That’s right, dear, everything is a compromise.”

✦ ✧

“Honey, you’re  _ sure _ you don’t mind?” Eleanor asked Louis, an adoring smile on her lips. “I’m afraid I just didn’t expect this to be so much fun - all the girls are already at the salon waiting for me!”

Louis gave her a soft kiss. “Go ahead, baby. I’ll settle the bill out with Harry. You go have a good time, love.”

Eleanor and Louis exchanged their goodbyes before she left. Harry was sat at his desk, trying to type up an invoice while resisting the urge to punch Louis square in the face. For multiple reasons. He walked to the printer on the other side of the room to grab the documents that he had printed, when he felt a pair of hands on his waist.

Harry jumped a bit. “What the fuck?” He asked, turning around quickly. 

Louis pulled his hands away as if he’d just been burnt. “Are you okay?”

“Are  _ you _ okay?” Harry mirrored, arms crossing over his chest. “You have the fucking  _ audacity  _ to come into my place of work, after you haven’t spoken to me for _ weeks _ ?” He asked. At least Louis had the modesty to look slightly guilty. “On top of that, you come in here  _ without warning _ , because oh! You have a girlfriend -  _ fiance _ , actually - who is now my client. Apparently you are too. Even though you hate my garland and you’re  _ fucking me on the side!” _

Louis set a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Hey, hey, wait-”

Harry pushed Louis’ hand off his shoulder. “Don’t you  _ dare _ tell me to wait. Okay? I know it may not seem like it to you, but I  _ love _ love. I believe in it. Love at first sight, soulmates, fucking  _ twin flames _ \- it sounds crazy but I think it  _ has _ to be true. Because if we aren’t put on this earth to love other people recklessly and passionately, then why are we here? But the thing is, I don’t want to be The Other Person, Louis. I won’t be. I am not a side toy that you can have fun with when you’re in town, and your soon-to-be wife isn’t. Because I won’t ruin love. I won’t watch you destroy every fiber of her because you’re selfless and you have no control or decency.” 

He paced to the other side of the room, running a hand through his hair. “I have to look at your fiance every time we meet until your _marriage_ and pretend like you haven’t cheated on her - like  _ I _ wasn’t the reason her man wasn’t loyal. I’m sorry, Louis. But that’s not what I signed up for.” He said, shaking his head. “In all the conversations we’ve had, all the times we’ve ended up in each other’s beds… You didn’t even think to mention her.” He said and shook his head. 

He couldn’t read Louis’ expression. Louis looked like he was torn between crying in sadness and screaming in anger. But nothing came out. He opened his mouth to say something and closed it, shaking his head and rubbing his temple, beginning to walk away. Harry used his words to stop him.

Harry rubbed his face, before looking at Louis again. "Once, you asked me what I thought about love. Do you want to hear the truth, Louis?"

Louis nodded, biting on a fingernail. Harry couldn't tell if it was because he was nervous or bored.

"To me," Harry started, taking a breath. "Love is selfless and sacrificial. It's choosing to love someone when they don't clean up after their cuppas. It's doing their laundry so they don't have to. It's picking up a bag of their favorite crisps at Tescos just because you're thinking of them. Not during the  _huge, gigantic_ things like tours and weddings, but in the small things. In the details that we'll forget one day - the things people wouldn't  _fucking bother_ to write if they wrote a book about your life." He didn't miss the way Louis winced. "It's about knowing their favorite song even if it changes every week, and holding hands even when you're mad, and kissing in the rain, and  _fuck_ , it's about being able to trust someone with everything. It's about falling in love and not being afraid because you know someone will be there to catch you. It's the feelings that make people like Niall write songs, and that makes other people have babies. It's when people don't remember who you were without that person. Love is looking similar once you're old and wrinkly because you spent 75 percent of your  _life_ together, and you'll want to stay together until the world explodes. Love is saying sorry and meaning it, it's compromises and fights that don't scare you because you know they'll get sorted out soon. It's the feeling you get when you're on a roller coaster and you feel  _all_ the butterflies in your stomach, your middle, your  _core_. It's about knowing that even if no one knows what a soul looks like, or where it is, that yours and their's are made of the same thing - knitted together long before you were even a thought. Love isn't pretentious. Sometimes it may be painful, but it's good, right, and  _real."_ He said, taking a breath he didn't know he had missed. "And above all that, more than anything else, love is a choice. Some people don't believe it, but I do. You choose who you love. Maybe you fall in love with someone, sure. But you have to  _keep choosing them, keep loving them_. Even when you are tired or want something new or are attracted to someone else. Love is choosing that person, remembering why you fell in love with them. Why you got on one knee for them."

Louis didn't turn around. 

Harry shook his head. “And you don’t even have anything to say about it?” He asked

Louis shook his head once. “Not a word.” He said softly. He didn’t meet Harry’s eyes. “Send my assistant the bill.” He said simply, before walking out. 

Harry watched the door close behind him and cursed, throwing the papers out of his hands, watching them fly and hit the floor. He felt his knees give out and collapsed into a big puddle beside his desk, just sobbing into his hands. He felt all sorts of things - used, dirty, and unwanted. He hated how he had played any role in hurting the girl who had sat in front of him - because  _ damn _ , she seemed to love Louis.

And he understood why. Louis was cocky and confident and loud and sometimes annoying, but he was also endearing, sweet, thoughtful, funny, and kind. He put other people first, loved his friends, family and fans fiercely, and fought for the causes he believed in. Harry had done his research - Lous was a highly loved celebrity because he was honest and real.

Harry just felt numb. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this story as much as I am!!
> 
> I was asked what some of my current favorite fics are! I decided I'd put one or two at the bottom of every chapter. For this chapter, I have to recommend two that make me want to be a better writer.
> 
> My first rec is 'Where We Belong' by pointerbrother! This story was beautiful and sad and sweet and thought-provoking and satisfying. I would highly recommend almost any of her works (her current WIP 'Fucking Animals' is a second favorite!), but I would recommend you start here. 
> 
> My second is "things have gotten closer to the sun" by starseas! This is my favorite work on AO3 (I say that a lot haha, but it's at least in my top 3!). It's got a bit of a slow burn but it is so, so beautiful and it makes you feel like you're somewhere between falling in love and being burned by the sun. 
> 
> If you're still reading through that, thank you! lastly, I would like to wish my son/husband/father/brother/prince/loml harry edward styles a happy birthday! wishing you lots of love and birthday sex xxxx


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> W A R N I N G S for this chapter ::
> 
> \- (unintentional) cheating  
> \- boys shoving each other  
> \- noncon sex  
> \- use of a safeword
> 
> please please, feel free to skip this chapter if any of these things are your triggers. all will be resolved in good time. read at your own risk.

The thing was, even though Louis was a famous singer, he kept his private life relatively private. While the paparazzi followed him and people were always interested, he kept what he could to himself. It was his firm belief that not  _ all _ aspects of life were meant to be shared with  _ everyone _ . 

To say that he could get in a  _ shit ton  _ of trouble for going to Harry’s house right now is an understatement. He’s meant to be in Milan at a fashion show with Eleanor, hell, there will be pictures  _ proving _ he was there. No one is supposed to know he stayed holed up in London. That’s what happens when you have a beard - it’s all lies, photoshopped pictures being strategically leaked, and carefully scripted quotes for magazines. According to Louis’ manager, he’s not to mess up the  _ perfectly sculpted image _ they had made for him. 

(The thought made him frown a little as he walked faster, the cold air making him shiver as he walked down Harry’s street. He’d left his car a kilometer away, thinking it would keep the paps off his tail. He wasn’t sure yet if that was stupid or brilliant.)

Louis didn’t like it. He absolutely hated the fact that he couldn’t be an authentic version of himself. He’d always swore that if his career ever took off - if he ever  _ made it _ , that he would be authentic. He learned a little too late that it was impossible really; every tweet, interview, and interaction was scripted. In an attempt to keep him PG, relevant, relatable… There was always a new excuse. Same old shit, different day. Sometimes, he wished he’d never become famous. But then, he’d of never met Harry.

He wonders if that would have made things easier.

He’s angry, is the thing. He’s mad that Harry doesn’t seem to care about him or respect him. Relationships are supposed to be  _ mutually beneficial, _ and Louis loves a good row, but this is getting out of hand. He’s angry because Harry hasn’t given him a chance to say how he feels. He’s angry because Harry’s acting like they hadn’t  _ talked _ about this, like he wasn’t involved in the planning of this whole…  _ thing _ with Eleanor.

Harry lives in a posh flat in London, surrounded by supermodels and movie stars alike. The doorman lets Louis in without a second thought, giving a simple tip of his hat and a soft, “ _ Mr. Tomlinson,” _ as he opened the door for him. He’d been to Harry’s flat quite a few times, however, he doesn’t think that he’s seen this doorman before. He thanks him, and gets in the elevator. Harry lives the floor below penthouse, Louis remembers, because Harry had told him on their first trip here how he’d been  _ so disappointed _ that the penthouse sold before he could put in his offer. There’s only one other apartment on the floor beside Harry’s, and he doesn’t spare it more than a thought before he’s knocking on Harry’s door. 

When Harry answers the door, a million thoughts go through Louis’ head.

First off, he looks like sin. He’s in a pair of Calvin Klein pants (that do little to protect his modesty), and has a scarf tying back his wild curls. He purses his lips in a way Louis can’t really read, before just wandering back into his flat wordlessly, leaving the door open for Louis to follow inside. 

One look around and Louis is severely confused. Now, Louis isn’t one to judge anyone for having a messy flat (because he isn’t the definition of clean by  _ any _ means), but he’s concerned because Harry doesn’t do well with messes. He can see a full sink of dishes as he glances in the kitchen, a few trash bags waiting to be taken out left by the door, and the living room is a disaster. Harry himself doesn’t look much better, now that Louis considers it. He’s got bags under his eyes and knots in his hair. He scowls at Louis from where he’s plopped down on the couch, into a nest of blankets and pillows. 

“Go on then,” He says, waving his hand in the air. “I suppose you came here to say something, so go  _ ahead _ with it.”

Louis can’t help but lick his lips. He loves the draw of Harry’s voice - slow, syrupy, and deliberate. He crosses the room so he’s closer to Harry, sitting on the chair closest to him. He shoves his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. All the anger that was in him seems to have melted away, because he’s  _ worried _ now. 

“I came here because I think we need to talk.” He said, diplomatically. “I feel like we’re having a pretty bad miscommunication, because  _ hell _ , Harry. I don’t know where you get off yelling at me like that.” He said, shaking his head. It was his job to keep a level head, to be angry but not let his anger define the situation, he reminded himself. “If you’re going through something, don’t take it out on me. We’re a team, okay? I can’t help if-”

Harry barked out a laugh. A bitter, loud, belly churning laugh. “Pardon? A team?” He asked him, sitting up a little bit. “Is that what you tell Eleanor as well, then?” He said, his gaze shooting daggers into Louis’ soul.

He felt himself frowning. “Why are you even bringing her up, Harry? What the fuck -”His mind flashed back to the screaming Harry had done in his office nor even a week ago. How he’d fussed about her so badly. “We  _ knew _ this would be hard, and you said you were here for it anyway. I don’t fucking understand you sometimes, Harry.” 

“I  _ have  _ to be here for it!” Harry yelled, causing Louis to flinch a little. “This is my  _ job _ , okay? To make her and  _ you _ happy. I don’t have much of a fucking choice.”

Louis felt his blood boiling. “Oi, that’s all this is to you then? A  _ job,  _ Harry, is that what I am?” He shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh of his own. “You told me you could be in  _ love _ with me and suddenly I’m a  _ job _ .” He shook his head and stood up. “You’ve fucking  _ lost it _ , mate. Get some fucking help.” He said bitterly. 

Harry rolled his eyes, standing as well. “ _ You’re _ the one who needs help, not me. I’m doing amazing. In fact, I have a wedding in America next week that will show  _ everyone _ that I’m doing amazing, that I  _ am _ amazing. Not just anyone can plan a Kardashian wedding.” He boasted.

Which made Louis pause in his tracks. “ _ What?” _ he asked, turning to face him. 

Harry seemed smug, arms crossing over his care torso. “Yes, Louis. A Kardashian wedding. Kourtney is the  _ real _ favorite, you know.” 

Louis took a second, brows furrowed. “What on Earth - Harry, you did that wedding  _ last year _ . Why are you fucking living in the past?” 

(He was no expert on weddings or Harry’s business model, but it  _ was _ the wedding that made him famous. It was the wedding that made Perrie agree to take Harry on based on Niall’s word. How Eleanor knew that if she were having fake nuptials, that Harry would  _ have _ to plan them. Harry constantly was comparing his current weddings to that very wedding, saying he would  _ never do better than Kourt _ . He’d mumble about it at night when they were chest to chest and honest with each other. Louis was sure that Harry had to be speaking incorrectly.)

“The fuck are you on?” Harry asked, raising a brow. “You already got to fuck me. You got to cheat on your fucking girlfriend. You know what? Get the fuck out of my flat.” He said and used a hand on his back to guide Louis right out the front door. “And get your shit straight. Her wedding is June  _ twenty-seventeen.” _ He said, annunciating the  _ n _ , before slamming the door in Louis’ face.

Harry had never been rude like that to him before. Hever laid a hand on him or yelled, certainly he hadn’t kicked Louis out of his flat before. 

It was 2018. February 2018. 

Louis knew for sure there was a problem. 

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

 

“I-I wasn’t expecting anyone, hold on!”

And the door slammed shut on Liam’s face. 

He tried not to take offense. He leaned against the hallway until Harry came back a minute later. His cheeks were flushed red, and he was tucking a button-down into a pair of skinny jeans he’d thrown on. He’d answered the door just in boxers, originally, before bolting off to put something else on.

“Hey, sorry,” Liam said, a nice smile on his lips. “I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d pop over.”

Harry nodded, giving a soft smile. “Well, you’re always welcome.” He said, finally situating his shirt. “C’mon in, Leem.” 

Liam followed Harry inside, frowning to himself. When Louis had called him that morning and explained the state of Harry’s flat, he honestly had doubted what Louis was saying. Disorder and filth were so  _ not _ Harry. Yet here he was. The pile of dishes was bigger than Louis had described, and Harry’s living room was a wreck - furniture moved out of place, his rug was bunched up, and empty crisp bags littered the floor. 

“How’ve you been?” Liam asked him, giving a warm smile.

Harry shrugged a bit, looking at the floor. “You know -  _ busy _ , mostly. I have a lot going on this time of year.”

The answer was vague in a way that Harry tended to be. He let people in, but only when he truly wanted to. Liam pressed a bit more. 

“Louis called me,” He said, taking a step forward, rubbing Harry’s arm softly. “He’s a bit worried about you.”

Harry deflated a bit. “Worried? I’m sure that’s the last thing he is.”

Liam wasn’t going to lie to him. “Yeah, he’s a bit angry too. But mostly he’s concerned about you, Haz. You know how he is.” He said simply. “Let’s get something to eat?” He offered, hearing Harry’s stomach growl.

Harry nodded, following Liam into his kitchen. He leaned against the counter and watched as Liam dug through the refrigerator.

Liam wasn’t a master chef or anything, but he had decent cooking skills. Harry’s cabinets were bare, however, as was his refrigerator, save a few apples. Those would have to do, he determined. He found a clean cutting board and knife, beginning to slice them. “This is the first time you haven’t tried to force-feed me the second I walked into your flat,” He teased but stopped when he saw Harry’s frown deepen. “So, are you going to tell me what happened with Lou?”

“Do you think I’m, y’know, desirable?” Harry asked after a second, eyes trained on the floor. 

Liam frowned. “I-uh,” he paused, cheeks red. “I’m not into men, like  _ that _ .” He explained.

“No, I know.” Harry interrupted. “But if you were?”

Liam set the knife down, shrugging. “I - yeah. If I were, you know…  _ Gay _ , I could see myself being into you.” He said, before realizing Harry was looking for more than that. Fuck. “You’re very sweet. And you are  _ so _ passionate about your work, which is important. And you’re not bad to look at either.” He explained. “Don’t you think you should be asking Louis all this? Since you and he are,  _ ya know _ …”

Harry’s eyes widened. “He  _ told _ you?” He asked, frowning deeply. “Why would he tell you that?”

“What?” Liam asked, frowning. He set some apple slices on a plate and gave them to Harry, eating his own off the cutting board. “We’ve all known for awhile.”

That answer doesn’t seem to be what Harry wanted, sighing, before taking a bite of his apple. “I’m sorry.” He said softly, meeting Liam’s eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, H,” Louis assured him.

“But there  _ is _ ,” he insisted. “Sneaking around is messy. It’s awkward for the people who  _ aren’t  _ the ones in bed.” He said and sighed softly. “It wasn’t supposed to get this far, I swear.”

“Of course it was supposed to get this far, that’s what being boyf-”

“He wasn’t supposed to be able to shatter me!” Harry said finally, shaking his head. Liam felt like Harry was disgusted with himself. “He wasn’t supposed to be able to make me cry or hate myself or turn my world upside down. But he could if he tried. I can fucking  _ feel _ it. I feel like Louis could ruin me if he wanted to - feel like he kinda already has in a way. I - I know it’s just fucking, casual sex between two causal friends, but he has the potential to ruin me, I just know it.”

Liam was quiet for a moment. Harry wasn’t making any sense at all to him. He felt like he was standing in front of a stranger, not one of his best mates. “Casual sex between two casual friends?” He asked, weakly.

Harry nodded, lips pursed. “Call me a slag if you will. We’ve all been there before.” He reasoned. 

Liam just hugged him. 

✦ ✧

“Li?” Louis asked, his normal greeting abandoned when he saw the caller ID. “Is he okay? Was he trying to fuck with me, because  _ I swear to-” _

“ _ Louis _ ,” Liam interrupted him, before sighing. “There’s something wrong with Harry.”

 

✦ ✧✦ ✧

 

Whole Foods reusable bag in hand, Louis marches into Harry’s building. He’s ready to fix whatever problem is going on between them. He’s done with all of the confusion and anger, because honestly - he just wants his sweet, sensitive Harry back. The doorman greets him by name again and Louis ignores him, set on his mission. When he gets to Harry’s door, he doesn’t bother knocking. He walks right in and -

Finds another man in Harry’s lap.

Louis swallows shakily, both of them jumping up. They must have heard the door open.

“Louis?” Harry asked, the happy smile he’d been wearing gone from his face. “What - what are you  _ doing _ here?” He asked.

The other man looks at them awkwardly. “I’m going to use the loo.” He said, before walking off. 

Louis watched him walk down the hall. “Who is that?” He asked him. 

Because of all the possibilities, in all the things he’d made up as he over thought about this moment, cheating had never even crossed his mind. Harry wasn’t like that. He was funny and thoughtful and kind and respectful and  _ honest _ . He felt his throat constricting, emotion welling inside him and threatening to spill out. 

“His name is Jack.” Was Harry’s only reply. 

“Jack,” Louis laughed humorlessly. “Really, Harry? We go through a rough patch, so you go and get yourself a fucking  _ Jack _ ?” 

Harry laughed a bit himself. “What else was I supposed to do, Louis? I  _ deserve _ a Jack.”

Louis couldn’t contain his anger for much longer, throwing the bag he’d brought down. “See,  _ that’s _ what I don’t understand. I’m right here, Harry,  _ right fucking here _ . I care about you. I brought you dinner because I wanted to fix whatever the fuck was going on. Because I think I love you.” He said, a few tears falling from his eyes. “Fuck, I  _ know _ I love you. And there’s nothing I can do about it. But why don’t you care? About the matching tattoos, songs I’ve written, the  _ up all nights _ ? I’ve never felt anything so  _ right _ with someone else, I’ve never given so much of myself to anyone.” 

“You haven’t given me  _ anything, _ Louis, you only care about -”

“Oh, shut the  _ fuck _ up!” He said and shook his head. “Stop making up some story in your damn head to justify your actions. Have fun with bloody  _ Jack _ , okay?” He walked to the door, taking a picture frame off the entry table and  _ throwing it _ , shaking his head as the glass shattered all over the floor, before walking out. 

✦ ✧

Harry found Jack in his room, sitting on the bed texting. 

Jack looked up and smiled. “Sorry, I figured you and that guy needed to clear the air. Cheaters are the worst.” He said. That was what Harry had told him.

(Harry hadn’t told Jack the real story because honestly, the details seemed a little hazy now. He blamed it on the pent-up anger and frustration rolling around inside him.)

Harry nodded, walking to him slowly, pressing him back against the bed. Jack smiled and welcomed it, letting his hands cup Harry’s arse as he climbed on top of him. He kissed at Jack’s neck, unbuttoning his trousers with his free hand. He heard Jack let out a soft moan, and was only urged to keep going. They snogged for a while, grinding against each other, taking turns kissing at each other’s skin. Harry had a hand down Jack’s trousers, pawing at his arse.

Jack moaned into it, arching his back.

Harry couldn’t help himself, leaving a few marks on his exposed neck. He pushed Jack’s pants down, grinding down on him with a little more purpose. The boy groaned into his mouth and Harry smirked, pushing his trousers off also.

“Harry,” Jack breathed, sitting up a bit when he felt Harry’s fingers playing at his rim.

“Shh,” Harry insisted, reaching over him to dig in his nightstand. “I’ve got you, babe.” 

Jack sighed and sat up completely, pushing Harry off of him gently. “ _ No _ , Harry.”

Harry sighed. “What?” He asked, seeming to know what Jack was about to say.

He bit his lip. “I think, maybe we should wait until next time, for  _ that _ .” He said simply. “Today’s been a little crazy, with Louis and all, and I think we should slow down a little.” He said finally.

Harry pulled his hand out of his pants with a huff. “There won’t be a next time, Jack.”

Jack nodded, seeming a bit hurt by that, but Harry couldn’t find it in him to care. “You know,” Jack started, pulling his jeans back on and buttoning them. “If this is some sort of  _ dominance _ thing, like, you have something to prove - prove it to  _ Louis _ , not me. I don’t want to get caught up in this.” He said.

And Harry just let him see himself out. 

✦ ✧

Harry cleaned himself up, fixed his clothes, and went to fix the horrible mess that Louis had caused by throwing both the food he’d brought and one of Harry’s picture frames. No use wasting time in the past, he supposed. He donned some kitchen gloves and worked out his aggression on a gravy stain on his white carpet.  _ Fucking Louis and his fucking gravy _ , Harry found himself thinking. 

He got the carpet as clean as he could - figured he’d need professionals to get it to truly look spotless once again - and then moved onto the glass that was shattered in his entryway. He picked up the pieces shard by shard and gently placed them in a trash bag. He finally found the cause of all the glass shards - the picture frame itself - and frowned deeply. He didn’t remember it… Didn’t remember the picture being taken, framed, or being placed in his entryway. 

It was a picture of him and Louis on that very first night - both of their cheeks red from the wine and the insane amount of smiling they’d done. It looked candid - they had an arm around each other but were staring into the other’s eyes. It was a stunning picture, Harry had to admit. But it confused him. Suddenly, it all made sense, however, and Harry felt his jaw lock. He threw the frame - picture and all right into the trash can, before putting on some shoes, grabbing his keys, and quickly walking out the door, slamming it behind him.  
  


✦ ✧✦ ✧

 

Louis had just settled into bed, when he heard a knock at the door. He sighed, opting to leave it. He didn’t care to see anyone and had just gotten comfortable. Lounging in his joggers and glasses, he was ready to just have a lie-in and relax, leaving his problems to the side until morning. 

The banging on the door got louder and persisted. Louis rolled his eyes. If whoever was at the door thought that would work, they were wrong. After years of screaming fans and obsessed freaks, he’d learned how to tune out things he didn’t like. A few minutes later, his phone started ringing. He only really answered it because it was interrupting the Instagram story he was watching. 

“Harry,” He said tiredly, almost annoyed. “What do you want now?”

“Let me inside.” Was his reply, to which Louis frowned.

“That’s you knocking?” He asked, surprised. He got out of bed and slowly made his way to the door.

Harry scoffed. “So you  _ do _ have ears. I was beginning to worry you’d gone deaf.”

Louis crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, I don’t  _ have _ to let you in.” He reminded.

“Open the door.” Harry sighed, but it sounded more desperate.

Louis hung up on him, before opening the door slowly. Harry didn’t wait for an invitation. He stormed inside, angry in a way that Louis hadn’t seen before; a way he didn’t recognize. Harry didn’t say a word to him, simply barging in and going straight to the living room, inspecting it with critical eyes. 

“The fuck are you doing, are you mad?” Louis yelled, ripping the pictures out of his hands. 

“ _ You’re _ the fucking mental one, Louis.” He said. He took every picture off Louis’ wall, holding them out of Louis’ reach. One by one he took them off the wall from where they were neatly hung and threw them on the ground.

They were all the pictures Louis had of them together. 

Some were pictures Harry had taken, some were other candid ones, and one was the same one Harry had in his flat. Louis gave up on trying to stop him after the third one, shaking his head and hiding his face. 

After ruining all 8 pictures Louis had, he sneered. “Where are the rest of them?”

Louis felt very small, and it wasn't a feeling he enjoyed. “What the fuck does that mean?” He asked, hugging himself. 

“Where is the rest of this  _ garbage _ , Louis. Where the fuck is it?”

Louis stopped in his tracks, feeling the anger swelling in him. “Oh, so now the pictures of  _ us  _ are rubbish to you, are they Harry?” He asked angrily, unable to stop himself from reaching out and shoving him.

Harry stumbled backward, anger evident on his face as he caught his balance. He let out an angry huff before shoving Louis,  _ hard _ . Hard enough that Louis toppled over onto his back, looking up at him, shocked. He opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Harry was on top of him. Louis was sure Harry was going to beat him to a pulp (for what, he wasn't sure), but instead, he found Harry kissing him roughly, his hands pressing Louis’ wrists down against the floor. He set a quick and dirty pace, keeping Louis pinned below it. Louis kissed him back hungrily. He couldn’t help it - after all the fighting and the arguments, all he wanted was Harry’s attention and affection. And even if it normally wasn't like this, he was still receiving it and that was enough for now. 

Harry fought for dominance of the kiss, pressing his tongue into Louis’ mouth dirtily. He grinded down against him and Louis was surprised at just how hard Harry was. He cursed into his mouth, kissing him back steadily. Before Louis could realize what was happening, Harry had pulled them both so they were standing. “Take your kit off.” He said as he pulled Louis back to his bedroom.

Louis’ breath caught, ready to hesitate. “I-”

“ _ I said _ , take your kit off. Now.” He said simply, shrugging off his own shirt after having closed the door behind him. 

Louis nodded, pushing his joggers down his legs. This wasn't how Harry normally was - usually, he was so soft and pliant and full of laughter. Maybe Harry was trying something new, Louis reasoned, to keep the spark alive? Louis hadn’t realized the spark had dimmed. Maybe that was the problem.

Harry had undressed fully and pushed Louis back onto the bed, kissing him harshly once again. He crawled on top of Louis and bracketed him down. He grinded against him impatiently, before leaning over and reaching in Louis’ nightstand drawer. He watched Harry lube up two fingers and unceremoniously shove them inside Louis. It was a bit of a stretch, but Louis was sure Harry just didn’t realize. He started Harry off with two fingers all the time. But Louis hadn’t been touched down there in  _ a while _ . He said nothing though, just arched his back in an attempt to relax his body to accept the intrusion. 

Harry didn’t take his time. Within a few minutes, he was four fingers deep. He pulled them out and wiped the slick lube onto the sheets. He pulled a condom out next, applying it to himself carefully, before lubing himself up.

“H,” Louis said, lip bitten. “I need a bit more, love. Not quite stretched yet.” He explained. 

Harry just laughed. “Don’t worry, this will stretch you just fine.” And he began to push in. 

Louis gasped and tried to climb away, but Harry pushed him back down onto his stomach with a single hand.

“Stop.” Harry growled.

And Louis didn’t even recognize his voice. “You fucking stop - I don’t  _ want _ this,” He said, pushing Harry’s chest in an attempt to get him to stop. He gasped out in pain as Harry continued to press in anyways, overpowering him. 

“You  _ do _ want this. You want to fucking  _ shatter _ me, Louis. Do you like how it feels?” He asked, snapping his hips.

Louis cried out in pain, fists clenching in an attempt to deal with the searing pain. “Harry, fuck, stop - seriously,” 

“You  _ want _ this, I know you do!” Harry argued, fucking into Louis, biting his shoulder blade, letting out a moan. 

And, no. He didn’t want this. He felt like he didn’t even recognize the man in his bed. Sweet Harry, who always made sure Louis was alright and enjoying what the were doing when they weren’t in a heavy scene. Harry who washed his hair in the shower and gave Louis the best hugs. Something was  _ wrong _ , Louis realized for the second time that night. This wasn't the Harry he knew - the one he’d fallen in love with slowly and then all at once, the boy of his dreams. This was a different entity - a monster he couldn’t trust and didn’t know like the back of his hand. He felt his body shaking - from fear or pain, he wasn't sure - a word rattling off his lips that he’d never used before.

 

“Red.” He whispered as he cringed, his body still not acclimated to Harry’s cock.

“Red,” He said louder, as Harry began to pick up the pace. 

“Red!” He yelled out, as Harry held him down and fucked the daylights out of him, fucked the life out of his eyes, fucked the will to keep going out of his soul.

“Red.” He said loudly, as Harry came inside him.

“Red…” He trailed when Harry had wrapped his hand around Louis, only to find him soft.

“Red.” He whispered as Harry fell asleep in his bed, an arm swung around Louis’ waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry. :(
> 
> i hope you all are enjoying the story. stay on board with us, things are confusing now (i know!) but I promise they will make sense soon!
> 
> PS :: i have an instagram account! drop by and say hello! @hlplease ( i have no followers. i am aware that that makes me lame. help me change that! i post sneak peeks of my updates on my story & would love to make some friends! )
> 
> ALSO :: remember to comment and let me know what you think! I will reply to all comments and give the best answers I can without ruining the plot. commenting shows me that you guys are enjoying and want MORE! // i try to update biweekly! I started out updating every other day but it was no producing quality work. i am aiming for a monday / thursday update schedule. check out my instagram for the most up-to-date schedule news!
> 
> LASTLY :: tune into my instagram story to get my two fic recs that I have started posting with every update!!!


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> w a r n i n g s ::  
> \- inaccurate medical jargon used  
> \- victim self-shaming
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I will be editing it later but wanted to get it up for you ASAP :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to quickly apologize for not updating the tags on here before posting the last chapter! so sorry to anyone who was upset by this. I will be more diligent in the future! thank you to champagnelarrie and writingforlouis for pointing this ou for me!

Harry finds himself waking up in heaven. 

Soft sheets below him, and a nice, heavy duvet on top of him. Sun is just peeking through the curtains. Harry can see the trees outside blowing melodically in the wind, and it takes him five minutes of contemplation about these trees to realize that he’s not in his own bed.

No, he’s not. He feels someone’s presence next to him, but he remembers the room and doesn’t have to look to realize it’s Louis. Happiness bubbles up in his chest in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stretched his arms out, yawning a bit. He pulled his hair out of the messy bun that sleeping had caused and re-tied it neater, before laying back down. He faced Louis’ back this time, wrapping his arms around him and nesting his face in his neck. Louis was still asleep and Harry took that as an opportunity to cuddle him more than Louis usually allowed.

He felt when Louis woke up though. That, he couldn’t miss.

Louis tensed impossibly in his arms, before completely throwing Harry’s arm off him. He sat up quickly and Harry didn’t fail to notice how delicious and  _ naked _ he looked. He wanted to reach out and touch, but apparently, Louis was in a feisty mood.

“Shall I make us a quick fry up?” Harry offered, stretching once again, smiling. He stood and realized he was naked also, and  _ wow _ . Louis must have really tired him out last night if he didn’t even remember falling asleep. He stood and pulled his boxers on, finding them scattered with the rest of his clothes on the floor. 

“No.” Louis said simply, hugging himself a little, Harry noticed. “We’re going to the hospital,  _ now _ .” He said, before standing and getting dressed. 

Louis got up and cringed, hoping Harry didn’t see. He hurt all over from the ways Harry had bent him and had his way with him. He stumbled into his bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Harry laughed a bit. “Why? Last night too fun for you, old man?” He asked. 

The bathroom door was thrown open. “ _ No _ , fun isn’t how I would put it.” He said angrily. “Get your fucking kit on, you twat. I don’t have time for this.”

Harry sighed and pulled his clothes on. “I really thought we were okay lately.” He said simply.

Louis shook his head, opting not to comment. He pulled a hoodie on, and Harry was pretty sure he heard Louis mumble _ you better hope there’s something fucking wrong with you. _

Harry swallowed a bit at that. “Maybe I can just get an Uber for you? I don’t want to go-” He admitted. “You’re just like, - really  _ fucking pissed _ off right now.” He explained. 

Louis shook his head, digging his feet into his checkered slip on’s, wiggling his foot until the heel slid on. “Get your shit, I don’t care. We’re  _ going _ . That’s final.” He said simply.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know why you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, but I’m going to have a good day regardless.” He declared. “So, I’m going to go ahead and go home.” 

“ _ I’m the Dom here, Harry. _ I know you have  _ absolutely _ no respect for that, but you ought to before I beat the complete shit out of you. You’re  _ going _ , because there better be something wrong with you, for the shit you pulled last night.” He said and put a hand on Harry’s neck, grabbing his keys and pushing him out the door, following behind. 

Harry couldn’t help but snicker. “Okay, Christian Gray.” He said with a laugh. “What the hell has crawled up your arse?”

“ _ You _ ,” Louis growled and shoved him a bit harshly into the lift. “Can you just be quiet? I have a fucking headache.”

Harry just snickered and nodded, staying silent. Because Louis had a crazy sense of humor this morning.

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

 

Louis walked out of Harry’s hospital room and down the hall, because, well… He just needed to catch his breath.

He felt like he was on a rollercoaster that had completely flown off the tracks, was the thing. He felt used and dirty and demeaned, and from their brief conversation in the car, Harry seemed to have no recollection of why Louis might be in a bad mood, let alone feel like his world was caving in on him. 

A kind nurse pointed him to a private waiting room, equipped with a full restroom, a coffee maker, and a couch. He started the coffee maker first, because  _ God help him _ if he had to get through this without caffeine.

He sat down on the couch and watched the coffee drip into the pot. He let his eyes close, wrapping his arms around himself tightly, willing himself not to cry. He felt numb, yet also like he was in searing pain. He felt humiliated and used and  _ angry _ , but he also felt like this was his fault. He must have made Harry think he wanted it, he realized. Because Harry was soft and kind and sweet, never rough or condescending like he had been the night before. Never hurtful on purpose. 

Never one to ignore something as important as coloring out, but apparently that had changed.

He felt the tears dripping down his cheeks, in time with his coffee. He wiped them away fiercely, as if someone else was watching and he had to be brave. He wanted to be angry, wanted to punch something or someone, wanted to yell. But he felt like he had no strength, because while he understood his feelings, he also understood that something was deeply wrong with Harry.

His Harry was gone.

Hs Harry - who would make pancakes naked, and dance around the flat singing (even though he was just wiggling because he couldn’t dance for his  _ life _ ), and tell Louis about new articles he’d read on feminism, equality, and LGBTQ+ rights. His sweet Harry, who would apologize in the mornings for leaving his clothes all over Louis’ flat, and who would have towels ready for them to shower when they stayed at his place. Harry, who loved love, who celebrated it daily, who knew the importance of trust and purity and  _ freshness _ . 

Louis wasn't fresh anymore, no. He felt like a flower that had been stepped on. He felt like a piece of him - a huge fucking  _ chunk _ of his heart - had been ripped out of him and tossed out the window, before being plowed by a bus or something. He felt like any respect he deserved was gone. 

The coffee machine beeped, and Louis got up to drink a cup. He poured himself a mug and cradled it in his hands. It was hot as hell. He took a sip, squeezing his eyes shut as it burned the whole way down his throat. He took another, and another, feeling the mug getting hotter against his hands.

It may be pain, but at least he felt something. 

  
  


✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

 

Niall and Amelia were going to be the first to arrive, and he knew that they would see right through him. He looked wrecked, he realized, as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. His cheeks were tear stained and his hair was greasy, and overall, he just looked awful.

He texted Niall, asking him to bring a change of clothes for him. He agreed and said that he had some of his own in his car, and he’d be there in fifteen.

Louis took that time to shower. He stepped in under the streams of water, and for the first time in awhile, he felt extremely uncomfortable in his nakedness. He couldn’t help but grab a towel off the rack, pulling it into the water with him, nuzzling his face in it. He slowly began to wash his skin, sniffling into the wet towel, keeping it close. Before long, he was openly sobbing into it as he scrubbed harshly at his skin with another. He was  _ dirty _ , a kind of dirt that water and hospital soap couldn’t fix. He sunk to the floor and let the wet towel cover him as he cried out, both from the pain inside his chest and then pain in his arse. He heard the door to the private room open and shut, and quickly stood up, turning off the shower and drying himself off. He held onto the wet towel, clutching it in his hands. 

He peeked out the door, shyly.

Amelia saw him first and rushed over to hug him. “Oh, boo.” She said softly. “Don’t worry, Harry will be fine, babes.” She assured, letting go with a smile. She gave a small laugh, one Louis could tell was to try and break the awkwardness. “What’s this wet towel for, babes? You’re going to catch a cold or something.” 

Niall came up to hug him next, but Louis could only focus on the fact that Amelia had taken his  _ towel _ from him. His only defense, his newfound modesty, his protector. He sobbed into Niall’s shoulder, his whole body shaking.

\Niall set the bag of clothes down, wrapping his arms around him. “It’s okay,” He reassured. “Doc says we can go see him soon. That’ll make you feel better,” He said as he pulled away, giving him a kind smile.

No, it wouldn’t. But he didn’t want to explain, so he nodded anyways.

✦ ✧

By the time he had changed into the clothes Niall had provided, Zayn, Liam, and Hailee were sat around the room. He felt his heart drop a little.

What was the movie - Lilo and Stitch? - that called these people, the ones you  _ choose _ , to be your Ohana. The ones who never forget you or leave you in the dust. And what an Ohana they were - waking up at 10am on a Saturday to come and be Harry’s Ohana in his time of need. 

It made Louis want to throw up. 

Harry didn’t  _ deserve _ an Ohana, not one like this. Harry deserved a slap to the face and some choice words, not supportive friends and people who cared deeply for him, he mused as he watched the coffee maker drip again. He got up to get another cup when it beeped. He needed to feel something, anything -

“Fun night, then?” Zayn asked, with a wiggle of his brows.

“No.” He mumbled grumpily, reaching for a new mug for his coffee.

“That limp in your step says different,” Zayn smirked, seeming like a truly all-knowing friend.

But he knew nothing. He didn’t know that that limp in his step told a story of Harry’s hand in the small of his back, pinning him down. His voice not being heard as he said their safeword, not being stretched enough. 

“Reminiscing?” Niall asked, smirking at Louis’ silence. 

Reminiscing? Sure. About the feeling of come leaking out of his ass when he didn’t want it there. About feeling dirty and used, and feeling so much love and hate for the person who did it.

Hailee seemed to be the first to pick up that something was wrong. “Louis?” She asked carefully. “You okay?”

That was enough to set him running for the toilet, slamming the door behind him and vomiting his guts up into the toilet. They couldn’t know, he realized. They were his and Harry’s Ohana. He couldn’t ruin yet another thing. The idea of telling them had him sick again, crying once his body had rejected as much as it could. 

He felt a hand rubbing his back, and heard the soft murmurs that told him it was Liam. He’d felt this before - usually when he was hungover off his arse and dying, needing some acetaminophen. He felt his shoulders shaking. Oh, how he wished he could spew all these thoughts and feelings out into the air, make the people who knew him better than he knew himself help him to feel better. But when he tried, all that came out was nothing. 

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

 

Louis sat a little straighter in his chair as the doctor entered the room. He’d been zoned out for a bit, staring out the window at the trees swaying. He’d wake up to that view every morning, and just seeing it made him want to throw up for a second time.

The doctor asked all friends to go wait in the waiting room, and one by one, they all said goodbye to Harry.

Harry, who was chipper as the day he was born. Who didn’t seem to have a care in the world or an idea as to why he was here. But he’d been a good sport, charmed the nurses into getting him some jello, and let them put some fluid in him because apparently he had been dehydrated.  _ See Louis,  _ he had said,  _ I could have handled this at home. _ To that, Louis hadn’t responded. 

The doctor sighed and took a seat across from Harry’s bed, looking between him and Louis. He began to speak in medical jargon, but neither himself nor Harry understood what the words  _ retrograde _ or  _ impartial _ meant when it came to why they were here.

Sweet Harry (not Harry from the night before, Louis noted mentally), cleared his throat after licking his lips. “Em. What are you trying to say exactly? They just told me I was dehydrated...” He explained, trailing off.

The doctor took a minute to find words, kind words. Louis could tell he was having a hard time finding them. 

“Sporadic memory loss.” He said finally, and Louis saw the light leave Harry’s eyes. “It has to do with reaction speed of synapses in the brain, usually associated with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.” He said finally. “It creeps in slowly, and then takes over entire parts of your life. I am so sorry, lads.” 

Harry didn’t seem upset. Just confused. “Are you sure you’re in the right room?” He asked the doctor. “Sure, certain details might have become a little hazy, but I haven’t really  _ forgotten _ anything.” He defended. 

The doctor wrote something down on Harry’s chart. Louis felt his heartbeat picking up. The doctor began to ask Harry questions - What did you have for dinner yesterday? What is your job title? What’s your mum’s name? - but Louis wasn't paying attention.

He felt like he was flying and falling all at one. He’d known there was a problem, and he felt relieved to have it realized. But Harry didn’t believe it, was the thing. Louis put his head in his hands, trying not to cry as he began to listen to their conversation again, in an attempt to calm himself down.

“What is your boyfriend’s mum’s name?” The doctor asked carefully, glancing at Louis just a little.

Harry pouted a bit. “I’m single.”

Louis could feel the tears starting again.

The doctor seemed discouraged. “Okay. What year is it, Harry?” 

Harry almost seemed bored by the question. “2017.” He answered immediately. “See? I’ve forgotten nothing. I think your diagnosis might be wrong.”

Louis looked up as he heard paper rattling, and he saw Harry’s CT scan being shown to them. The doctor slowly explained the parts of the brain and the colors used, explaining that blue was good, red was bad, and grey were dead cells. 

“See these areas of grey, surrounded by red?” He asked, both Louis and Harry nodding along a bit dumbly. “They’re small, which is good. But this is your medial temporal lobe. The area of your brain containing the hippocampus, which processes memory and thoughts.” He said slowly. “Mr. Styles, unfortunately, it is 2018, and this gentleman is your boyfriend.” He extended a hand to Louis. “And I’m sorry to say that you have Sporadic Memory Loss.” 

Harry stammered. Louis felt his tears dripping off his chin and onto the floor. 

“We don’t know why this happens,” The doctor continued. “Researchers believe that in individuals with a history of OCD, that these brain cells get “burnt” out from being focused on obsessive behaviors. And it can extend to other cells, which could contain memories and thoughts.”

“But I haven’t forgotten anything,” Harry urged, and Louis could hear the desperation in his voice. “I-I would  _ know _ , I would  _ feel _ that something was off, fuck -” He choked out, eyes squeezing shut. It was hard for Louis to even look at him. “Fuck. I -”

The doctor sighed softly. “You wouldn’t realize, is the thing. Your brain will try to fill in the gaps 

itself, the same way we can try to remember things as events we were at when they were just stories we’ve heard or how our brain makes white noise to fill empty sound, it’s-”

“But I  _ haven’t _ forgotten anything!” Hary urged, sitting up straighter in the bed. “I haven’t-”

“You forgot  _ me _ ,” Louis found himself biting out. “You forgot  _ us _ .”

 

✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

 

Harry felt like he was losing his mind, which, he  _ supposes _ is a natural way to feel when you are, in fact, losing parts of your mind. 

The doctor had sensed the awkward tension and mentioned they might need some time in private, and that he would go fill their friends in on what he had just told Harry. Harry couldn’t manage more than a weak nod. 

Then, it was just him and Louis. 

They just looked at each other for awhile. Blue eyes meeting green in a way that should feel familiar, apparently. But Harry felt like he was staring at a stranger. Louis was alternating between looking at Harry, cursing into his hands with his head in his lap, and staring out the window. Harry tried to wait, because obviously Louis was hurt by  _ whatever _ he had been forgetting. But Louis was staying silent, and Harry’s patience was running thin.

“What do you mean, I forgot  _ us _ ..” He asked Louis, his brows wrinkling as he frowned. “I haven’t forgotten anything - we’re mates who sleep together sometimes and it’s fucking awkward because I told you I could fall in love with you.” He said simply, watching as Louis looked at him again. “I haven’t forgotten you, Lou. I know exactly who you are.” He said softly. 

(He wanted to reach out and  _ touch _ , but his body was telling him not to. Louis looked like he needed comfort, a hug, or  _ something _ , but Harry felt glued to the spot he was in.)

Louis laughed bitterly, making Harry’s frown deepen. “That’s not what we are,  _ fuck _ , that’s not what we ever were.” He said simply, wiping a stray tear away.

“Then  _ tell me _ ,” Harry almost begged. “I’m so fucking confused, Louis. Tell me.”

And Louis did. Harry felt like he couldn’t breathe as Louis explained it all to him. How they’d met at the Not Wedding, and flirted over Twitter for weeks on end. How it was sex but it wasn't  _ casual _ , how there were feelings involved and they’d discussed it. How Louis had a fake girlfriend because his publicist insisted that it was the only way to keep him relevant. All the tattoos - Harry remembered those, but he didn’t realize they had meanings - the rope to your anchor, the compass that guides you home, the rose to your dagger… Louis rattled them off as if the list was endless. He spoke about the nights they’d stayed up crying together about how cruel people could be to them. About how in love they were. About babies they wanted to have, dreams they were pursuing, and plans they’d made. How Harry used to cry about Eleanor but how he had found it in himself to understand. And Louis cried at the end, cutting off his voice as he told Harry he’d  _ changed _ , lately. That maybe it was the memory loss but maybe it wasn't, but Louis didn’t know what they were anymore.

And Harry couldn’t get a single word in before Louis had excused himself and left in a hurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't hate mee!!! <3  
> everything will be resolved soon, lovies. stay on board!
> 
> -m
> 
> PS :: i have an instagram account! drop by and say hello! @hlplease ( i have no followers. i am aware that that makes me lame. help me change that! i post sneak peeks of my updates on my story & would love to make some friends! )
> 
> ALSO :: remember to comment and let me know what you think! I will reply to all comments and give the best answers I can without ruining the plot. commenting shows me that you guys are enjoying and want MORE! // i try to update biweekly! I started out updating every other day but it was no producing quality work. i am aiming for a monday / thursday update schedule. check out my instagram for the most up-to-date schedule news!
> 
> LASTLY :: tune into my instagram story to get my two fic recs that I have started posting with every update!!!


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